Rolling Storms
by Darkwalk12
Summary: The Autobots are glad the Twins are alive. But some good deeds have consequences. No one knows what the Twins are hiding. Nor why the human who brought them back ran off. "Wait, let me get this straight. Those two I saw, the red and yellow ones, aren't dead? They're just...here?" She pointed at the glowing orbs beside her.
1. Part One The Lives of Friends

Author's notes: This one has been bugging me for a while so...here it is! :) Reviews appreciated. Flames will be laughed at. I do not own Transformers unfortunately, pretty sure they belong to Hasbro. However Shay is mine.

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><p>Part 1. The Lives of Friends<p>

Shall we start in the medbay? Interesting things happen there. Yes, we'll start in the medbay...)

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><p>The first thing the medic thought was that someone had spiked his energon. But the most likely people to have done that would be the Twins and it was impossible that they could have done it right now. The second was a cruel prank was being played.<p>

An irritated female stood before him, arms crossed and pale eyes narrowed. A thin layer of sweat and dirt covered her along with a torn denim jacket and stained jeans. Her stance was set to defensive with feet firmly planted in thick leather boots and face turned upward. Tanned skin spoke of many hours spent outdoors as did callused hands. Mouse brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but that didn't take away from the fact that she looked like she would take on anybody coming her way, and wouldn't hesitate to go against metal giants. A scratch on her hand was freshly scabbed over and looked about half an hour old by the medic's guess. The human stood next to a container that came up to her thighs.

Cybertronian in make with metal paneling on the top and bottom, and thick glass at the sides; it was placed on the floor with care. The cylinder was taller than it was wide, making it thin enough for the human to wrap her arms around it and carry it somewhat comfortably if need be. A few scratches marred the glass, but that was irrelevant. What was important was the two sparks floating around inside.

"What..." Ratchet started with a harsh whisper, "is this?" Blue optics paled and a gray chevron tilted down as he stared. The white and red Autobot wanted to move forward; to scan the sparks for damage and bandage the human's hand, as was his habit as a medic; but couldn't move for the feeling of tension rolling through the air. He'd dealt with a lot of things in his life, but right now he didn't want to deal with anything and wasn't quite sure if he really wanted to deal with this. Faintly, at the back of his helm, alarm bells started going off and sending little shoots of hope that he quickly pushed aside. Do the job first, find out what's going on, and then hope.

"You an Autobot?" Asked the woman bluntly, eyes daring him to say no. That broke whatever held the medic back momentarily.

He sputtered, causing Mirage and Windcharger to shift uneasily behind the human. You didn't ask Ratchet stupid things. Or there would be a risk of injury to the helm. With servos on his hips the medic bent down to return the human's glare.

"Yes. I am an Autobot. Would I be in the Autobot base or the Autobot medbay if I weren't?" He questioned with sarcasm dripping from his vocals.

She snorted, "Just checking. Had to be sure." The voice was slightly ruff and a bit low to be coming from such a thin person. One would expect a slightly higher pitch or maybe softer tone. Someone either didn't get the memo or ignored it. The ambulance would have bet on the latter.

"Mirage?" He asked. The mech shifted again before starting. Few were ever comfortable with having to explain to the Hatchet how they had ended up in ridiculous situations. The noble kept it under his normally haughty face though.

"Decepticons were sighted up by the city. Ravage and Frenzy were after this one." He gestured down that the small glaring human.

The medic sighed, pinching the bridge of his olfactory sensor and sent a quick comm link to Optimus. Undoubtedly Red Alert had already informed him about the human in the base, but he wanted to make sure the Prime would get his tailpipe down here.

Crouching down, he reached for the spark container but was waylaid by the woman. With a low growl and her lip curling, she placed herself in front of the sparks. The two glowing orbs twirled around faster, bumping gently against the walls of their confinement.

Ratchet's optics narrowed. Obviously this one didn't trust them. And it wasn't surprising if she'd been chased by those cassettes. But that didn't mean she could do whatever she wanted in _his_ medbay!

"May I," he said through gritted denta, tones strained to keep from shouting, "see them? I could just grab them if I wanted, so quite wasting my slaggin' time!" There were two sparks in one jar. That shouldn't be, he thought.

Cool eyes regarded him and promised murder or worse if they were harmed. With another rumble she moved slightly out of the way. The medic carefully picked up the container with gentle servos. The glowing blue lights still bounced around, more active then they should be. But the coloring was still bright and there was no sign of dimming. Scans would be needed to be certain.

However the girl was still agitated. Maybe girl isn't the right word. She was young, but clearly an adult. It was obvious in the way she stood and looked them all in the optic. This one didn't consider herself a child. If he had to guess, based on human anatomy, then he would have said very late teens or early twenties.

Now that he knew no one was in immediate danger, he needed to get everything straight so he could figure out what needed fixing. Tools were moved and the sparks were set on the counter away from the edge. Below the human gave a low rumble.

"What is your name?" He glanced down and then over at the scanners on the other side of the room. If he could get her up here and the needed medical equipment he could start getting all the data he needed, not to mention a bandage. It would be easier to run tests from higher up compared to the floor.

A stony face, then, "Shay."

Ratchet made a _hmph_ noise, "And how old are you?"

Now her pale blue eyes narrowed slightly, "Twenty-two."

Well then, not too young, at least for human age standards. He crouched once more and reached a servo out, holding it flat before the woman. She leaned away, openly glaring.

"It would be easier for everyone if you weren't down there. So either let me help or climb up yourself." he grouched at Shay. She looked at the open palm and then at the sparks before giving a low growl and carefully climbing into his hand. He stood slowly as the presence on his servo steadied herself and then held it close to the table so she could get off, which she promptly did with a little jump. Immediately she settled herself by the container.

Turning to the forgotten bots who had been quietly standing by the wall he ordered, "Stay in the Ark. I may call you back." He knew full well that Prowl would have them going to explain things at his office soon enough. With that dismissal he moved to grab a few items from the drawers and send another comm link, this one to his assistant, First Aid. The protectobot was heading this way anyways. Mirage and Windcharger slipped out with the latter giving a cheery wave to the human (it wasn't returned but she did tip her head in thanks for the ride).

Finished getting everything together, the medic received a call that Prime and a few others were heading toward the medbay. He pulled a crate out from under a bench and set it nearby before turning to the woman. She stood watching his every movement with her face closed off, giving away nothing. Behind her the spinning orbits of the sparks had slowed to what was slightly more normal.

"Are you injured?" He questioned taking the scanner over her and the sparks. A frown as the medic glanced over the data and concluded there were no broken bones or ruptured organs. Not that he thought there would be. However, a skeletal scan showed a couple of fractured ribs that had starting healing at least a day or so ago, to judge by the healing growth. Not to mention what looked like a pulled and slightly inflamed muscle near her right ankle, the screen lit up with red in some areas. Funny how you couldn't see her limp when she moved.

Shay shook her head to the earlier question, "Dunno." With a serious face she rolled up the sleeves of her jacket and noted a few small cuts and bruises before checking under her shirt. It was apparently sufficient as she poked both her legs in several areas before standing upright again, "I would prefer three small bandages and some antiseptic if you have some." The woman pronounced calmly. The medic grunted an affirmative before reaching into the crate he'd pulled out. It had all their human medical supplies in it. After handing Shay what she required he watched with a critical optic to make sure they were applied right. One went to the scratch across her hand and the other to the shoulder of her right arm. The last was placed on a long shallow mark across her abdomen.

"You didn't place it right. Foreign components can still get in that wound." with a growl and careful servos Ratchet pulled the bandage off and poked it into it's right place, a scowl set into his face the entire time. Shay twitched back a little but beyond that didn't react. He was not happy. All in all, there were a number of mottled areas all over, a split lip that was barely noticeable, and an older bandage on her neck.

"Do you know you have two fractured ribs?" He questioned grumpily, "And put a new bandage on your neck!" he snapped, handing another one to her. Behind him First Aid arrived. He paused to look at the sparks, Ratchet, and then the human before settling himself on the corner chair to wait till he was needed.

The young woman gave him a flat look although she did replace the covering on her neck, "They'll heal," a blunt statement.

Barely half a minute behind the medic's assistant came Red Alert with Prowl and Optimus last. The female eyed each critically, studying them up and down before moving on to the next. Her stance shifted until she was leaning against the container slightly and crossed her arms. While the other bots came into the room the medic looked at the scans of the sparks.

He had been right. They were stable, the energy levels acceptable, and nothing stood out as odd. Ratchet did, however, purposely ignore the frequency scans. Those would tell him if these sparks were who he thought they were. But he wouldn't -_couldn't-_ get his hopes up. The professional side of him warned him not to jump ahead.

'No on is about to offline. Hear what she's got to say, then hope.' he thought, staying in his medic state and not allowing himself to think about anything else. Get the job done, deal with all the emotions later.

"Ratchet?" Questioned Optimus Prime. All optics were on the two sparks in the container and the glowering human in front of them. The medic sighed and pulled up a chair.

"Neither the sparks nor the human are in critical condition. Everything appears stable."

The Prime walked toward the human as Prowl set himself against the wall. Red Alert scowled and plopped himself onto an empty table, all the while giving the woman a suspicious look. When he was only a couple of feet away, Optimus tilted his head to get a better look before speaking in a calm deep rumble.

"Hello."


	2. Chapter 2

Finally got this done. I revised it several times before I was satisfied. Hope it's good

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><p>"Hello" Optimus greeted the woman politely.<p>

"Hi," No 'nice to meet you'. Just a 'hi'.

"I am Optimus Prime."

"I know," the woman's face betrayed nothing but a slight caution toward everyone in the room. She continued, "Shall I start at the beginning or cut to the chase?"

Even with the mask covering the lower half of his face the tall bot seemed to be smiling slightly, "How about we cut to the chase first and then go to the beginning?" he questioned.

She nodded. Optimus grabbed a chair and sat down, while Shay settled herself cross-legged. Once all were settled except Prowl, who remained silent by the wall, the woman began.

"I was told to bring these here. That's the basics." A chin lifted, "I am supposed to keep them safe and return them to the Autobots."

Now the tactician spoke, cool optics regarding Shay, "And who told you to do that?"

Lips turned into a thin line as she frowned, blue eyes dulling, "I don't know his name."

"Perhaps we should go to the beginning now." Interred the Prime. Sitting relaxed in his chair he gave off the image of vast patience.

Shay was silent for a few second as she chewed her lip before starting, "Uh, well, it was Wednesday...it's Tuesday now?" A look around the room for affirmation, "It was Wednesday and it was raining pretty hard so I thought it was thunder at first but then I realized it was shouting and the ground kept shaking just a little." Her words came out a bit rushed as if she wasn't quite sure how to explain things.

"Wait," Prowl held up a servo to pause her story, "Can you give us a context? Where you were, why you were there and such."

Blue eyes blinked, "Hmm, right, sorry. Um, I was on my way back from getting bread and some stuff in town when the storm rolled in. My house is maybe three miles away and I was on my bike so I wasn't that far, but I got soaked pretty quick and it was kinda chilly..." The door of the medbay slipped open and silently Jazz and Ironhide came in, joining Prowl and listening.

Shay's eyes were no longer focused on them, but on her memories, "I was pretty close, only another fifteen minutes to ride when I heard the shouting. At first I thought it was just the thunder but then there were quivers going through the ground, and I really wasn't sure _what_ was going on."

The frown deepened, fingers locked together in pale lines. It seemed she'd partially forgotten who her audience was because the tension left her stature, leaving only hard thoughtfulness and something sadder.

"The sky was really dark and I couldn't see anything, so I got off my bike and headed towards Marnie's fields because that's were it sounded like everything was coming from. Anyways the lands a bit lower there, half of it's kinda shaped like a bowl."

"You went to go check out who was shouting, in the middle of a rainstorm?" Queried Ratchet with disbelief.

She blinked and then glared, "You expect me to have just ignored that? The ground was shaking. I needed to know what was going on." The medic gave a grumble, something along the lines of '_humans..._' while Optimus signaled for her to continue.

Expression still mulish, she did, " The fields there dip down into a lower patch of land. So I went over and by then it had stopped, the shouting and ground shaking, not the rain. But I got there and..." She trailed off for a few seconds, a dead look on her face, "There were a lot of...they looked like you. Not exactly like you, but Cybertronian ya know? But they were all covered in mud and pretty busted up."

"What was their colorin'?" Jazz chimed in for the first time, accent rolling through his easy drawl.

A deep breath, "Green, most of them. A funny greenish yellow and purple, though I could be wrong. There was a lot of mud. None of them were really moving. The other two were brighter colors."

This statement garnered the attention of everyone very quickly as a sudden tension went through their frames, "Describe these two." Ordered Prowl, doorwings hitched slightly higher.

"Well, one was red and black, but mainly red an' he had a lot of mud all over him...he wasn't moving." The last part was said much more quietly, barely above a whisper. "The other one was yellow or kinda gold colored with some black. But he's the one that told me to bring these here." A gesture toward the spark container.

A dead silence throughout the room until finally the Prime spoke, "The exact words, if you could recall."

Shay stared blankly into space for a moment, completely still and then, "I went down a bit and got closer. The yellow one was still moving so I went over and asked if he needed help, because what else _could_ I do?...And he didn't say anything, just ignored me. I suppose he might not have heard me 'cause he looked pretty out of it. Anyways I told him he looked like shit and he said to shove off. Can't really be mad at him about it though..." Another pause as she gathered her thoughts, "Then he said 'You have to take this to the Autobots. Don't let the Cons catch you.' and I said 'take what?' because I had no clue what he was talking about but then he pulled that container thing out of nowhere and put it by his chest. It sorta opened up a bit and those two lights went in...And then...he wasn't moving after that." Her voice cracked just a little, face frozen into a mask with grief barely showing through.

Ratchet sat with wide optics, frozen in place while over by the wall Jazz slid down to sit on the floor. Ironhide looked like he was thinking hard. A stunned and surprised expression settled on the remaining bots. Prowl's doorwings were splayed wide, optics flickering as he thought through possibilities.

The medic stood very suddenly, causing Shay to jump a little. He moved until he was right in front of her and crouched just a bit so they were optic to eye. The young woman became tense once more and eyed him with a sudden suspicion.

"Are you saying," He started low, voice deadly soft, "that those sparks," a look towards the spinning orbs, "came out of Sunstreaker's chest?" A pause as he realized she didn't know who Sunstreaker was, "The yellow bot."

"Um..." A blink of surprise, "Yes. What does that mean?"

Optimus turned to his medic with a very serious look, "Ratchet, did you record the spark's frequencies when they were brought in?" Behind him Red Alert looked ready to declare this all a trick but shut his mouth with slumped shoulders when the white and red bot glared at him.

"Yes."

"And did you check to see if they match the Twins frequencies?" There was no mistaking the seriousness in the Prime's tone.

Ratchet said nothing for a moment, "No. I thought it would be best to wait and see what she had to say first."

Optimus looked at the medic in the optics and saw that he hadn't wanted to check because he was afraid of being wrong. He was scared that it wouldn't be the Twins. He nodded to show he understood and Ratchet sighed, pulling out his spark scanner and attaching it to the holo-screen at his wrist. A square of light popped up with two charts showing jagged lines. With a slight hesitation he pulled up another two, the recorded spark signature's of the Twins. There was a collective stillness throughout the medbay and everyone waited to see what the verdict was.

Finally Ratchet looked up and spoke as calmly as he could, "They...match. These are the Sunstreaker's and Sideswipe's sparks." A slight tremor went through his voice as he suddenly sat down on his chair again.

"Those two are too stubborn to die." He gave a low laugh of relief as Jazz whooped and jumped up. Optimus raised his face to the ceiling with a sigh of 'thank Primus' while Ironhide gave a rough chuckle. A resounding cheer came from all of them but mixed in was a protest from Red Alert.

"Wait! How do we know it's really them?! What if the Decepticons somehow got their hands on some other sparks and messed with their frequencies? We could be putting Decepticon sparks in the Twin's bodies!" The security director scowled at the woman who was sitting on the table confused. She looked back at him blankly.

Ironhide joined in, "He's gotta point. We sure it's them?"

"Yes, it's them." Ratchet huffed, "There is absolutely no way to fake a signature. The frequencies are not only highly complex but unique to every spark. And those frequencies can change slightly, so even if they tried to change a spark's frequency it would alter in unpredictable ways. This is them." The last part seemed to be almost involuntary, said to himself as if he couldn't believe it. And why wouldn't he have a hard time? They all thought the Twins had been dead for about a week now. To suddenly know they were okay...The medic gave another broken laugh as he checked the charts again. They were alive.

"Hey!" The human yelled to get their attention and then immediately tensed when they all looked at her, "I'm confused. What exactly are you talking about?"

A sigh from the medic, "Do you know what they are?" he gestured at the sparks.

Shay scratched her bandaged hand, brows drawn together, "They're alive. You called them sparks." She moved her undamaged hand to rest on the jar. Interestingly the orbs glowed brighter and gravitated toward her side, spinning and twirling about. But that was common enough, they were probably just reacting to the close contact.

The gray chevron dipped down in a nod, "The sparks are a cybertronian's life-force. Since they're twins..." His lecture was interrupted.

"They're brothers? Figures." the human muttered.

Ratchet scowled, growling, "As I was saying, since they're spark twins, Sunstreaker could have put Sideswipe's spark in his chest, as his brother's body was heavily damaged. But if he was just as beat up, and he was, he may have decided to put both their sparks in a spark container for safe keeping. At least until their bodies were repaired enough to house them."

Prowl frowned, "That would have been the best plan to keep them alive."

"Huh, they actually did something smart for once." Ironhide chuckled.

"You forget that they are intelligent on a regular basis, especially when pranks are involved." replied the tactician, "They just seem to forget it with everything else."

"Wait, let me get this straight," Shay stood up and looked straight at Ratchet with an intent look that would have rivaled that of a wolf on a hunt, "Those two I saw, the red and yellow ones, aren't dead? They're just...here?" she pointed at the container, hope trying to break through the reserve on her face.

The CMO nodded, "Yes, yes. Of course, we'll have to do scans to make sure the right sparks get in the right bodies." Shay grinned hugely for a moment with a happy look before her expression returned to it's normal guarded self, albeit a slightly less tense self. She relaxed marginally, placing her hands in her back pockets.

"Yeah, betcha Sunn'd be real ticked if he woke up in his brother's body." Jazz snickered with obvious delight.

"Excuse me, Shay?" Prowl queried as he moved from the wall to get closer, "What happened after Sunstreaker gave you the spark container?" Serious optics regarded the human up and down once more before moving on to the sparks, gathering data and filing it away the whole time.

The human female shrugged, "One of the other ones started moving and when he got up I saw the Decepticon symbol. So I hightailed it out of there and took these guys to my house."

Prowl pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensor while Red squacked, "What! You mean if we'd been there a few minutes earlier we could have got them?! We wouldn't have thought the Twins were dead?!"

"Heeey now, we don' know how long after sheh left it was when weh got there." Broke in Ironhide, shifting to get more comfortable against the wall.

"Actually we have an approximate guess," Returned the tactician, voice dry. "If she saw one of them getting up and we got there just as Scavenger was waking Mixmaster, then the likelihood of arriving only a few minutes late is very high."

"Well, slag..." Spoke Jazz, "Think o' all the trouble saved if we'd jus' gotten there quicker."

Optimus turned to Shay and took note of the damaged and tired appearance, "Have you been trying to get here all week?" His calming baritone quieted the voices of the others.

A shrug, "Pretty much. I was alright till I hit Boise. Stupid cons." she growled, pale blue eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"I'm surprised you ran into the cassettes and got away with only bruises and cracked ribs." Called Ratchet as he pulled out more equipment.

The brown haired human snorted through her nose, "Oh, the ribs weren't from the cons. Those were some dumb-ass humans. Don't need to worry 'bout them though. They won't bother me again. And I got lucky. The cons never actually got a hold of me. They just chased me around."

Prowl looked down at the human and frowned as the medic pushed him out of the way, "We need to get their sparks back into their bodies. First Aid!" His assistant jumped to attention, all but forgotten until now, "Go bring them in here. We have to go over them and make sure everything is stable." The Protectobot nodded and started toward the door.

Optimus broke into Ratchet's order, "Everyone. Keep this quiet until they are up and moving. We don't want to get hopes up too soon. Ratchet, we'll require a status update at the officer's meeting." He stood.

They started filing out the door, although Red Alert gave the woman a suspicious look before he left. Prowl nodded almost to himself and slipped out, ready to get back to work. Jazz was all set to leave too when he caught a glance from their leader. The red and blue bot gave a nod towards Shay. As everyone but Ratchet left, the saboteur moved over to the table and sat on it, ignoring the look he got from the woman.

With a lazy smile he leaned back and started talking to the human like they were friends, "We got human-sized guest rooms if ya wantta get some sleep. Don't think the Hatchet will lettcha leave the Ark 'til he's sure yur all healed up." Servos were placed behind his head, creating the illusion that he was relaxing.

Silence and a frown answered him, but after a few seconds she spoke firmly, "I'm staying with them until they get back in their bodies. I don't care how long it takes." The TIC nodded but she continued, "I would also like some information."

At this the corner of his mouth turned up, but behind the visor optics narrowed, "Oh? Like what?" Jazz questioned amiably.

Shay shrugged, "You called the yellow one Sunstreaker, and the red one Sideswipe? Is that correct?"

"Ah," the spy relaxed, she only wanted to know about the Twins. That made sense, "Yep, that's right. Sideswipes red and a nice enough mech. Cheerful at times and down right diabolical at most." The human snorted, "Sunstreaker's a bit of an aft. He kinda avoids people and doesn't act too friendly a lot, really vain. Doesn't like humans much either. But he keeps an optic out fer everybody in battle. Both o' them do, and their real good fighters. Kinda violent."

He couldn't get much of a read from this one. The tension in her posture and curled fingers showed she still wasn't comfortable around them, yet she was forcing herself to have a conversation with him to find out what she wanted. The only emotions he could glean from her face was irritation and wariness, as pale eyes flicked from him to around the room in a continuous circle. She really didn't trust them that much. Now the question was, why was she here? He'd already gotten filled in on how she'd come here, being brought by Mirage and Windcharger. The woman could have easily given the sparks to them and left, seeing as she obviously wasn't happy being here. So why hadn't she?

This was a puzzle, something Jazz took as a challenge. Besides a slight narrowing of her eyes when the spy had called the yellow twin an aft (and others tended to use much ruder words instead), he couldn't figure out what she was thinking and the news that they were violent didn't seem to surprise her. '_What's going on in that little head of yours?_' He wondered. Whatever the case, she held herself closed off and defensive.

"Hmm. And your name?" She inquired politely.

"I," He stated with a flair, jumping up to do a spin and a bow, "am the Jazzman. You can call meh Jazz." A crooked grin accompanied this and he straightened to see the barest corner of her mouth turn up although she eyes him shrewdly.

Ratchet pushed past Jazz to move some tools, "Enough of that! Outta my medbay."

Jazz held out a servo to the woman, ready to help her down. However all he got in return was a crocodile look as she stared frostily at him and glanced once again at the container. Fingers clenched into fists and for several seconds she didn't move.

Finally she turned to study Ratchet, who was preparing two examination tables for the Twin's bodies. He didn't seem to notice. Watching the medic's movements with a predatory gaze she spoke up.

"Ratchet, I believe is your name?" Her voice flat, although there seemed to be something icy beneath.

"Yes! What?!" He was haphazardly arranging the needed equipment.

A moment of silence as she stared with a stony face, "I'm quite sure you're not going to hurt them. If however, I'm wrong, and those two get hurt because they're here...I will find a way to make sure someone gets very badly damaged, possibly losing a limb. I will not be pleasant." This was stated in a calm manner, as if one were commenting on the weather. The ambulance stopped what he was doing and looked over at her with surprise. She looked back blankly, not joking in the least. Once eye contact was established and threat delivered she turned back to Jazz. He immediately scooped her up and rushed out of the medbay as Ratchet let loose a torrent of swear words and profanities, all the while yelling about someone's intelligence and trust issues. They got through the door and it closed just as there was a clang, a tool being thrown towards them. The loud shouting and threats could still be heard out in the hallway.

Jazz let out a sigh of relief, "Darlin', I think yer suicidal." She didn't answer as they headed towards the guest quarters.


	3. Chapter 3

Riverton is a real place in Wyoming.

I love thinking like Bluestreak. It's so much fun. :) Also, have a grumpy Ratchet.

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><p>Bluestreak was chosen to try to befriend the human. The younger mech's generally cheerful attitude and friendly nature made it hard for anyone to stay angry at the sniper. Also, Jazz had failed to get anything out of the woman.<p>

After a shower and a short nap the human had emerged from the human quarters dressed in borrowed jeans and a shirt. With her dark jacket tied around her waist and hair let loose, she immediately returned to the medbay and none of Ratchet's words could persuade her to move. The medic hadn't let the earlier threat go and his irritation took form in swear words and snappy comments.

The young praxian peered into the medbay to see Shay resting next to the container, head tilted back and eyes closed. Now that she wasn't wearing her jacket the medbay lights caused all the bruises on her arms to stand out. The woman hadn't gotten up yet and wasn't acting very social. Jazz had questioned her, trying to persuade her to talk about herself, but she said very little and remained vague. She'd refused to leave the medbay to see the rest of the Ark as well. It seemed that the plan to befriend her was failing. So now, Bluestreak was bringing her food.

Hound said offering food to humans (and animals) was a friendly gesture. So the gunner was going to give it a try, hoping she would open up a little. With a quick look at Wheeljack and Ratchet working on the other side of the room, he slipped in carrying a small (to him) paper bag in his hand. The two working bots didn't notice, speaking back and forth as they fixed damage on the Twin's unresponsive frames.

Bluestreak shuddered slightly, gray form quaking. They had all thought Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were dead, but now... Now there was a chance to get them back. He had been let in on this development when Jazz asked him to speak with Shay, but had warned him to keep it quiet until they were absolutely sure the Twins would be alright. No point in raising false hope and all. Not to say the rest of the Ark's inhabitants hadn't noticed something going on. But all the Commanding staff along with Mirage and Windcharger weren't saying anything (under orders from Optimus, not that anyone could _find_ Mirage right now).

He slunk over quietly, walking like Jazz had taught him, trying to make as little noise as possible. Apparently the young warrior needed more practice because the woman opened both eyes and looked right at him. Her arms didn't move from her lap, legs didn't twitch or head turn in the slightest. It almost seemed as if she hadn't been asleep at all. She just opened her blue eyes and seemed to stare through him. It was almost creepy but Shay didn't look that scary to him. She smelled like cocoanut now too, since she'd had a shower. With a frown she blinked at him.

"Hi!" He said brightly and after a second of standing awkwardly and trying to remember what to do and not do, he thrust the paper bag at her, "This is for you. Everybody figured you'd be hungry and you haven't eaten and Ratchet said for someone to make you eat food, but you didn't want to leave which makes sense. I mean you have been taking care of them and you don't really know us and probably don't trust us, so if I were you I'd probably do the same. We are a lot bigger than you, aren't we? I know I'd be freaking out if I had to go meet people who're four or five times bigger than me..." He prattled on for a few seconds before the startled woman held up a hand and raised her voice.

"Hey!"

The gray bot stopped and tilted his head slightly. With that she stood and opened the bag which was actually medium sized to her. Inside was a variety of sandwiches in plastic zip lock bags and a few bottles of water with condensation on them. They were apples tosses in there as well. She leaned over the bag, light brown strands falling in her face, and pulled out a sandwich. It was cold like the water.

Her brow furrowed slightly and then mildly cautious eyes looked up at him, "Did you raid a fridge?" The tiniest hint of disbelief snuck through her words.

Bluestreak knelt on his knees and rested elbows and servos on the table, "Yup! Well, most of that stuff was in the refrigerator because Spike and Carly and Sparkplug come by pretty often. But the apples were in this bowl that Carly calls a fruit bowl, and there's oranges at the bottom."

Shay nodded and gave a polite smile, "Aha. And I can eat some of this then?" The bot nodded and started to speak but was once again cut off by her gesturing, "Okay. First, thank you. Second, there is absolutely no way I can eat all of this."

The gunner's door wings drooped causing the young woman's eyes to tighten just slightly, "I'm quite hungry though. I'm sure I can put away at least a few sandwiches. But it may be best to save some of this food for those other people." With that she pulled out another sandwich and an apple before sitting down cross-legged.

The response to this was the mech starting to bounce slightly as he started up again, "I didn't think of that. It's probably good not to eat all the food then. My name's Bluestreak by the way and Prowl told me your name is Shay, isn't that a funny name? I've never heard it before..." He started chatting again as the human opened one of the plastic bags and sniffed the food. After deciding it was alright the sandwich was gone in a few bites. A serious face watched him as he continued talking about anything that came to mind.

"Bluestreak!" Bellowed Ratchet from across the room. The medic had one cherry servo on his hip, partially turned to look behind him. Wheeljack didn't look up from the welder in his hands, used to the CMO's usual rants.

"Okay, sorry Ratchet. I was just talking to Shay," but the medic had already turned back to his work.

The praxian brushed it off, used to dealing with people irritated over his constant talking. With a frown he suddenly whipped his head back to the woman who had watched this interaction with an odd look on her face, "I'm sorry. I've been talking a lot and you haven't and that's not really fair. Everyone in the Ark knows to interrupt me when I do that but you don't. So I'm sorry. You talk now." Sky blue optics looked at Shay and unknowingly gave his infamous 'puppy dog' look. It wasn't really his fault. But the Datsun was upset, and and an upset Bluestreak meant a pathetic looking Bluestreak. So the spark's guardian got treated to a world class 'I'm guilty and I'm sorry, please forgive me' look.

The apple paused halfway raised to her mouth and she blinked twice before speaking, "Aaahhhh...What is it we're talking about?"

Bluestreak cheered up, "Oh! Do you have siblings?"

"Um...no. I'm an only child," She frowned, still on autopilot as she recovered from the puppy eyes, "Do you have siblings?" She questioned. This bot reminded her of a hyperactive kid.

"Nah, not technically. But Prowl looks out for me, so he's sorta like an older brother. And everybody in the Ark is like family. Well, most everybody. Not everyone gets along." He mulled over that for a second. "What about parents? Everyone has those, right?"

A frown, "I just have my dad." The young woman could tell he'd been sent in her to get information, but this Bluestreak person seemed alright. He had a certain sort of innocence about him. He was asking because he really wanted to know and was curious. Shay decided this one was okay.

"Oh, no mother than?" He looked slightly forlorn, trying not to poke at a delicate subject.

The woman shrugged, "Nah."

He mulled over that for a second as she continued to pull sandwiches out, "So...are you going to go back then, to your dad? Once the Twins wake up?"

Silence as she paused, blue eyes dulling a bit. The question hadn't surprised her, no. She just hadn't really thought about it yet.

"Yeah."

* * *

><p>The meeting was called with quick efficiency. Prowl had spent the last several hours gathering the necessary information and compiling data, so now they could get on to business. It was just a matter of everyone actually showing up <em>on time<em>.

The commanding officers filed into the room. Optimus Prime of course, followed by Ironhide the weapon specialist, Red Alert the Security director, and Ratchet. A few moments after the appointed meeting time Jazz waltzed in with a smug smile and self-satisfied walk. Once everyone had settled and Prime called the meeting to order, Prowl started.

"Everyone is up to date on the situation with Shay and the Twins, correct?" A pause as there was a collective nod, "First on the list, the Twin's frames." The SIC turned to the medic.

Ratchet sighed, red servos placed in front of him on the table, "Wheeljack, First Aid and I have made enough repairs for the frames to be stable. We could technically put their sparks back now but I'm highly recommending we wait. It would be an easier transition for them if we finished all repairs first. With a smaller amount of damage there is less a chance of unstable energy waves or spark collapse."

Prime nodded, "And how long will it take to complete the rest of the repairs?"

A thoughtful silence before the CMO replied, "At least another day. Twenty-four to thirty hours."

"Another day?" Questioned Red Alert, "It doesn't usually take you that long. And you've already started on the repairs."

"They had the energon beat out of them!" Snapped Ratchet, "Do you know how much damage it took to actually take them down!? This is Sunstreaker and Sideswipe we're talking about!"

"I'ma guessin' a lot," Jazz put in, feet crossed and stuck up on the table. Prowl slapped them down without even looking over. The saboteur pouted.

"You can bet it was a lot! Their frames are meant to take a lot of damage. They get busted to slag and still walk into my medbay on their own! To actually almost kill them...It's not just patching up and fixing dents. Interfuel lines need completely replaced, along with several motorary function chips that I'll need Perceptor's help with, joint relays have to be rewelded into place and countless other problems. Frankly, the fact that they went against a combiner by themselves and didn't get completely ripped apart surprises me. We're lucky we found Sideswipe's leg." Growled the medic.

"I suspect it would take longer had you not already started repairs as soon as we brought back their bodies." Prowl spoke quietly, cool optics looking at his data pad.

A few surprised optics looked at each other while Ratchet huffed, "It is a habit. I've put them back together enough, I just couldn't leave them damaged." He gave the tactician a slightly irritated look.

Optimus nodded, "Then they will be returned to their frames soon. What is next?" The tall bot turned his helm toward his second in command.

"The human female, Shay. I have found some information in the last few hours. Jazz was slightly successful as well."

Said bot smirked again, "She's talkin' with Blue right now. Nobody can stay mad at that kid."

"That one dahn't like us too much Prahm." Rumbled Ironhide, shifting a little and making his chair creak.

The medic turned to look at the weapon specialist next to him and snorted, "She was chased by cassettes. What do you expect?"

Optimus held up a servo for silence and returned his gaze to Prowl. The black and white tactician ignored the arguments from his comrades and stood to hook a data pad up to the terminal. Light appeared in the air above the table. Images and text floated on the holoscreen, the largest picture showing the woman in an image most likely taken from her license. She wasn't smiling.

"Shay Brenna Carpenter. Age twenty-two. Residence in Jade Creek, Iowa. Mother dead. Father works as a part time farmer and at a local bank as a teller. Shay herself is employed at a local pawn shop but has worked part-time for a number of jobs around town. She is not enrolled in college. Both live together a few miles from the town. Ms. Carpenter is currently missing and the law is out looking for her." Red Alert twitched, about to say something but Prowl pulled up more data and continued.

"Her father reported her missing last week on Thursday after she couldn't be found the day before. The police consensus is that she left on her own motivation as her father's vehicle, a navy blue chevrolet silverado, was gone as well."

Up came a police report next to an image of a small house by a road and some fields. A barn and garden could be seen off to the right with a number of trees stretching across the background. The picture below that had Shay sitting in what was most likely a restaurant with friends. Two women and a man were with her, one woman and the man obviously laughing. The other female had her eyes sent upward, probably rolling them in exasperation as she put up with the others. Shay herself was only partially turned toward the camera. Settled on a stool with arms leaned forward, one was up to rest against her face as a pillar, supporting her weight against the counter. Her expression could be called mildly surprised and irritated. The one eye they could see was narrowed and seemed to emit a cold feeling toward whoever had taken the unexpected photo.

"It was noted in the report that Ms. Carpenter is mildly antisocial. Her contact with other people is usually limited to co-workers at her varying odd jobs and her father. She doesn't go with friends to town often. Her behavior is often said to be quiet, cold, unresponsive toward others and those around her as well as temperamental at times. Not associated with any groups or clubs, no volunteer work, no social media online, and doesn't have any online accounts besides those for legal purposes."

"So...very antisocial." Offered Red finally.

Prime rested his chin on his palm, "It would seem her current behavior is not so much to our presence then, but what is normal behavior for her."

The TIC frowned, visor tilted, "I don't know if it's completely normal, though she seemed a mite more defensive earlier than she is now, talking with Bluestreak."

Prowl's door wings gave the slightest twitch, pulling up a video, "I searched for any video evidence related to the vehicle type and design which she was supposed to have been driving. This was recorded roughly a day and a half ago in Riverton, two states over. Ten forty-nine p.m., from a camera at the corner of a bakery." On screen, in a grainy colorless frame, was a parking lot with a dark pickup truck sitting close by. It was late, the sky behind a hazy sort of gray due to the parking lot lights. A human with long, gray looking hair, wearing the same leather boots but a different jacket, walked up and unlocked the driver door. She put in a small grocery bag and rummaged around inside before climbing out again. Turned around you could see it was Shay, albeit the quality of the video was fuzzy. Carrying a different bag, this one paper, she approached the sidewalk closer to the security device and tossing her item in the trash can. Another turn and she retreated to her vehicle.

Just as she was getting back in some men came up. Although it could be reasoned that they weren't quite men. They were young, most likely not much older than Shay herself, and one in particular looked no more than a teenager who hadn't quite hit his twenties. One had a ball cap on and he gestured toward her truck. The woman stood stock still in front of the open driver's side door, the light inside giving the edges of her head a haloed effect. The face would have been completely in shadow, had the other lights around not picked up on her features. It was hard to tell her expression from the video. They just weren't close enough.

Finally her lips moved a little, speaking. The men laughed, the youngest with his arms around his midsection as the other tossed his head back with his mouth open. The apparent leader with the hat waved a dismissive hand in her direction. Still she didn't move. He started speaking again, arms spread wide as he gestured to gain her attention. To the side the younger one crept closer around Shay to the open door. She suddenly threw out a fist his way as he fell over onto his back to escape being punched. The other two moved forward, one tried to grab her arms while the last landed a blow to her midsection. In the conference room Ironhide let out a quiet rumble.

Back on screen, the fight progressed. Obviously none of them were professionally trained, however the men looked like they'd done this a time or two and Shay was giving it everything she had. The woman thrashed, smashing a foot in one of their guts, headbutting the other. The youngest looking one got up and leaned into the truck, trying to grab something.

The woman went nuts. She grabbed one of the men who was trying to hold her and with a heave, threw him to the side at least a couple of feet. The other one got his head grabbed on either side as she jerked him down while bringing her knee up to his face. He slumped over and didn't move.

She stalked to the side of the youngest. With both hands, she dragged him out of her vehicle and shoved him to the ground. The teen tried to get up but a kick to the face crushed his resistance. Shay gave another kick (this one to the ribs) and then took to pummeling his face as she sat on him to stop him from escaping. The woman wasn't kidding around and quite obviously, by the force of her fists, in a rage.

The first man downed, the one who'd been thrown back, got up and tried to pull up their leader. Both took one look at the youngest getting the tar beat out of him and took off across the lot and out of the camera's view. Shay surged up, chasing them a few feet while the kid rolled over and then scampered in the opposite direction. Shay seemed to be shouting something, one hand raised in the air, both fisted. She whirled, hair flying, as she turned back to her truck.

"Pause," demanded Red Alert, leaning over the table to get a better look. Prowl obliged, stopping and rewinding a few seconds, "There." Stated the security director, "Zoom in."

The frozen image pixelated before becoming slightly clearer, "That's as much as I can do." Returned Prowl. On screen a close up of Shay's face filled the image plane. It was when she was turning, mostly facing the camera. The quality was still bad, as the edges blurred a little, but you could see her face twisted in anger. Brows drawn together, a snarl on her mouth, but what really caught the bot's attention was her eyes. In the grainy picture they appeared startlingly pale, almost glowing white in the gray-scale video.

"Hmm," rumbled Ironhide thoughtfully, "That ah reflec'ion from thah lights?"

Red Alert's optics narrowed in speculation and the lamborghini frowned, "Maybe." When nothing more was said Prowl zoomed out and started at where they had left off. The video continued, showing her checking out the inside of the vehicle. Everything must have been fine though because after a few seconds she climbed in fully and shut the door. Almost a minute passed before the truck started and pulled away.

"Due to the location of the camera and the license plate being unseen from the view, the police are not completely sure of the identities of the persons in the video, save for one man who turned up at the local hospital. He was apprehended after he had seen a nurse for a fractured jaw, cracked rib, busted nose and a number of bruises and scratches." A pause, "The one she stunned with the knee to his face."

Optimus spoke, "So the law does not know that it is Shay in the video?"

His second in command shook his head, " Without the license plate they cannot make a certain identification. This was taped a fairly large distance from where Ms. Carpenter was last officially seen. Teletran-1 was able to make the video clearer for us, the original is much more difficult to view."

Ratchet sighed, hands resting on the table, "So what do we do with her now? Send her home?"

"Ah, Ratch! Ya know she said she wasn't leavin' til the Twins were fixed. Yer just mad she threatened you." Jazz grinned smugly while the medic puffed up.

"If that little brat thinks she can threaten _me _in _my_ medbay...!" his rant was cut off as the Prime spoke up.

"Wait. She threatened Ratchet?" The poor guy looked surprised.

The TIC grinned even wider, denta showing, "Oh yeah, she told im, said, 'I trust ya to keep em safe an' all, but if they're hurt ya gonna lose a limb.' Somethin' along those lines." Jazz started cackling at the looks on every bot's face while Optimus rubbed his optics.

Prowl merely raised an optic ridge, "That is not surprising considering her evident protective nature toward them. They are vulnerable in their current state."

Optimus sighed. It had been a very long last few days. Best finish this.

"She will stay here in the human guest quarter for now. The matter is settled," A nod to the CMO who gave a huff, "If those matters are clear and there is no outstanding objections or questions?... What is next on the list?"

A red chevron dipped as Prowl checked his data pad, "The updated security programming for the front door and Wheeljack's proposals for a few new inventions.

And the meeting continued.


	4. Chapter 4

music: Cry- Thomas Bergersen

* * *

><p>Shay was upset, for lack of a better word. The woman was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest as she watched the medical staff finish off the repairs. No outward sign gave a clue to her internal conflict; face bland but eyes sharp, her mouth pressed into a thin line. The only tension was in her shoulders bunching just slightly.<p>

During the last day or so she'd spent most of her time resting and eating next to the spark container while watching the repairs take place. First Aid had come over at one point and asked if she wanted him to explain exactly what they were doing. He seemed really nice but the mechanical gibberish had been above her head so she had politely declined. The few times she had left was to either go the the bathroom or take a pillow from the guest room before returning to nap on the table. It was actually okay in the medbay. The temperature was warm enough and the smell of machinery wasn't too strong. That disinfectant scent you get in hospitals wasn't there, which was always a plus in her book. Only occasionally were there loud noises, mostly from what looked to be welding tools and a small machine that used lasers to cut up sheet metal.

She marveled at how much better the Twins looked now that their frames were almost completely fixed. The lack of mud, energon stains, and gaping holes helped, not to mention the reattachment of limbs. Only a few weld marks now told of their previous state and even those were going to disappear. The young woman watched them silently.

They were almost done. And then the Twin sparks would be returned to their frames. And after that...

_'Are you going to go back then, to your dad? Once the Twins wake up?' _Bluestreak had asked. She really should go back. She needed to call him and tell him she was okay. He was probably really worried, not to mention mad. But what if she didn't want to go back?

_What am I going to do? _Internally she mulled over and over about the situation. Shay knotted her fingers together around her knees and frowned in thought. _I don't want to go home again_. Just the thought of it made her wince. It wasn't that she was avoiding anything,...but if she went home then what? She'd go back to doing what she always did; home, work, taking care of the house. It had been nice traveling around. It had been _fun_. No having to talk to a lot of people, no one looking over her shoulder asking why she was goofing off or not being productive, getting to see new places and explore.

But she couldn't stay either. Slowly she reached out a work-roughened hand and laid it against the side of the container, not looking toward them. A warmth spread through her.

_Curiosity. Joy. Something?_

The woman felt the question and thin lips deepened the frown. They wanted to know why she was upset. Shay briefly closed her sky colored eyes before sending a reassuring feeling to them.

_It's alright__. Comfort. Warmth. _

She felt like crying. Not that she would. Shay didn't cry, at least not where people could see her. But her insides seemed to crash against the walls of her being, ripping, tearing, quivering. It hurt. Damn it. She was so good at keeping everything in, but once it started to come out there was no stopping it. A torrent would build itself up until she either buried it under control or let it pour out and stood back to see what would happen.

_I can't stay here. I can't._ A panicking feeling kept rearing it's head inside, making her feel the restraints that were holding her here. The link that kept tugging and pulling at the short woman to stay next to the sparks. It wasn't natural, it wasn't right. She wasn't supposed to be here and she kept fighting that pull, because Shay wasn't good at dealing with things that tried to restrain her. _You brought them back. They'll be okay. And what will happen when they wake up? They are fighting in the middle of a war and you have to go home. It will hurt worse if you have to say goodbye. _The whole confusing mess kept tangling itself in her thoughts. And trying to figure out what to do just kept knotting the threads. What Shay wanted to do, what was the right thing to do, what needed to be done, what was going to work.

Shay wouldn't admit it but she was also afraid. Social interactions were never her forte. Dealing with people was something she did because she had to, not because she wanted to. The thought of trying to be friendly towards all these people made her twitch. And she was afraid of what would happen once the Twins awoke. _What are they going to think? Are they going to remember this? Jazz said they didn't like humans, especially Sunstreaker. This is a mess._ She was worried about how they'd react. Opening up and trusting people wasn't in her nature. She was so used to doing everything on her own, putting that sort of control in someone else's hands...

"Just the junction clips on the elbow's and Sideswipe's done." Wheeljack was speaking to the CMO, head fins lighting up, while First Aid ran diagnostics over the yellow twin's finished frame. They had forgotten she was here and that was honestly the way she preferred it. But the engineer's statement had the effect of another dose of constricting panic winding it's way through her. She _could not_ deal with this. The best way was to leave now, before they woke. Best to let this end before it turned into a disaster. A creeping dead feeling settled in her core.

Ratchet gave a nod and looked over Wheeljack's work, "Good. One last scan to make sure we didn't miss anything and we'll start the transfer." He pulled up charts on his scanners and then sent First Aid to get the energon lines. They would need it. The medic stalked over to the table with the sparks and glared at the woman.

Shay looked back blandly, dark honey brown strands falling into her face, and moved her hand off the container. Shifting, her posture indicated the Ratchet could pick up the sparks now. He did so and then frowned down at her.

"What's wrong with you?" She looked back at him and tilted her head just a little. After a second her eyes moved to the sparks before she stood and walked to the edge of the counter. Slowly, almost robotically, she climbed down and landed on the chair set below. Another ledge and another small jump and she was on the floor. Without looking back she walked quietly out of the medbay, face never changing or looking at anyone.

The red and white medic stared after her and then huffed, 'why are some humans so weird?' Pushing that thought away he started the procedures for spark transfer. They had to be very focused on the task at hand, not worrying about some people's behavior.

* * *

><p>She drifted past any Autobots that may have been in the halls. If there were, she didn't notice. A fog of some sort seemed to be in her head, and she reacted on autopilot.<p>

_What are you doing?! _An internal voice in her head shrieked. But it didn't stop nor slow her steps as she ghosted toward Prime's office. Bluestreak had pointed it out to her earlier when she'd left the medbay for a run to get food. She was running. That's what she did. If the best way to deal with something was to run, than that's the way she would go. _And it's better this way. Less complicated. They'll go back to their lives and I'll go back to mine._

_You have trust issues. _Her head was fighting the growing feeling in her chest, two sides gripping each other and trying to drag the other down. _I do have trust issues_. She could deal with people being aggressive to her, could deal with giant alien robots, and even stray dogs that attacked in the middle of the night. But when it came to personal issues, she avoided them like the plague.

The static in her head blurred out all the words and without even realizing it, she had stopped before the leader's office. Standing still she paused. _I need to do this. It's the right thing to do. It will only be worse if I stay._ Not that those words affected the ball of numbness growing inside. With a deep breath she raised her fist and knocked on the big metal door. There was a dull pounding. It sounded quieter than she'd meant it to be.

"Enter" came a baritone voice, and the door split open.

Slowly walking in she found a huge desk before her, and above it she could see the Prime's head and shoulders. Tech of some unknown use sat in the corner. It wouldn't have surprised her if it was actually a filing cabinet. An odd sort of computer was hooked up to the wall on the other side of the desk. Optimus looked down at her with surprised ultra-marine optics.

"Would you like to come up?" he asked kindly, lowering a servo for her to climb on.

* * *

><p>He had been expecting Jazz with the data links about the 'improved' blasters they had started testing last week. The Prime had been curious when he'd heard the quiet knock, as Jazz never did that. The saboteur either knocked in some sort of beat or just came in unannounced. But Optimus hadn't expected the human, maybe one of the other bots, but not her. Hadn't she been staying in the medbay almost the whole time?<p>

"Is something a matter?" he asked aloud, studying her.

Ms. Carpenter looked haggard, like someone had just put weights on her shoulders. It seemed she didn't know where to start either. Her mouth thinned a little and brows furrowed before she started slowly.

"I...I'm leaving. Your medic is putting the Twin's back in their bodies. I need to go now." Her voice came out rough and almost monotone, as if she wasn't quite awake or all there. Optimus frowned. He'd known Ratchet had started putting their sparks back, but he'd assumed the woman had wanted to meet the Twins. He couldn't figure out what was driving Shay to leave right now. But they couldn't hold her either, it was her right to leave if she chose.

"Are you certain you don't want to stay to seem them? I know they are not some of our more friendly Autobots at times, but I think they'd like to speak with you..." She shook her head, gray-brown hair brushing against her shoulders.

"No. I need to go." Hollowed eyes drilled into his. Something very important was going on. Perhaps she was needed back at her home, or she was worried about her father.

"If you are sure," The blue and red bot finally sighed.

A sharp nod and then she seemed to pause. Tired eyes turned contemplative. Nervously she stuck her hands in her pockets.

"Actually...Can I leave a note?" A hesitant request.

"Of course." Optimus turned and pulled a piece of paper and a large pencil from a drawer. Why he would have those things in there, she didn't know or care. Handing them to Shay he asked, "Would you like me to give it to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe for you?" It was the least he could do, considering she'd brought back two of their best warriors.

The young woman gave another nod before taking the large pencil and carefully writing on the paper. It didn't seem to bother her that the Prime could read it even though he turned away to politely give her privacy. Once done, the note was folded in half and handed to Optimus.

He held it gently in his servos and looked up as Jazz waltzed in the office, "Ah, Jazz. You have those data links?"

The TIC nodded and grinned, "Here ya are. All nice an' neat thanks to Prowl. Hey there girl." His blue visor flickered as he tipped his head, a 'Jazz wink'.

She just looked at him blankly. It hadn't even surprised the woman when he'd walked in. The spy looked curiously at the paper in his leader's hand and then back at the silent human.

"Jazz, Ms. Carpenter would like to return home. Perhaps you could give her a ride..." He got cut off, something that rarely happened to him.

"The train station. If you could just drop me off there, I'll be fine." Sharp flat words.

Jazz tilted his helm, "Well sure thing. Ya got some money fer tickets?"

She nodded and he put out a servo. Shay gave a look to the note and then Prime before climbing into the spy's palm. Optimus rose, his metal chair scraping back.

"Thank you Miss Carpenter, for returning the Twins to us." He briefly bowed him helm in gratitude.

"Sure," she mumbled, "Take care of them." Shay gave off a low growl as Jazz turned to go out the door.

Optimus watched them leave and stood still for a second before passing the threshold as well. Thinking, he headed toward the medbay. The red and blue Autobot wanted to be there when the Twin's woke up. He had a note to deliver.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry it took so long and this is so short. I had two weeks of finals and then started a job. But here we are! Finally get to see the Twins.

* * *

><p>"Look at the light." An annoyed blue optic followed it to the left. Ratchet pulled back and clicked off his examination tool. "Optics appear to be functioning fine."<p>

"Raaaaattttttccccchhhhheeettttt! I'm fine! I'd tell you if something felt wrong." whined a much younger sounding voice. Sideswipe was sitting on one of the medbay berths, where he and his brother had been staying for the last hour and a half. They had been poked and prodded and fussed over by their medic the entire time and _no one_ was filling them in on anything. The carmine red and black bot was getting antsy.

The CMO was not amused, "You two slaggers almost offlined! Now both of you shut up until I'm done!" Sunstreaker muttered something that sounded like 'I didn't say anything' while the other patient pouted and gave a pleading look to Prime who'd been there since they'd woken up.

Optimus sighed as he leaned against the wall, "Ratchet, is there any problems?" a calm question.

"No," groused the red and white medic with a scowl, "I just need to make sure we didn't miss anything."

"If their condition is sufficient then we need to speak with them."

Sunstreaker snorted with derision, "We're right here you know."

The medic's scowl deepened, "Fine, fine. Alright you two, what is the last thing you remember?"

"Fighting Devastator." An immediate reply from Sideswipe who folded his arms and leaned back, mimicking his twin's posture. His brother remained silent and still. He did not look at anyone.

"Sunstreaker?" Their leader's gaze bore into the golden warrior.

He finally looked up, albeit coldly with one blue set of optics challenging the other. Black fingers tightened slightly as they gripped the berth. Lines of tension were evident in his frame. Finally he slowly spoke with a rough growl, "Sides was hurt."

"Hmm," Ratchet looked thoughtful, "Nothing after that?"

Sunstreaker shrugged, "I think I put our spark's together." Sideswipe's gaze flicked between all of them but he himself didn't seem surprised. He must have remembered that part at least.

"Ratchet, do you know why the Twins may not recall what happened?" Optimus now questioned the medic, his gaze unreadable. It was easy to tell how he was feeling on the better days but sometimes it was hard with the face mask on. Right now his deep voice held back any clues that may have given away his thoughts. Ratchet rubbed his chin with a red servo, still thinking. Without answer, he checked a diagram and some charts on one of the monitors.

Finally he sighed, "We found some damage to their memory banks. Nothing serious but it seems the core processors stopped their memory records once the primary systems started shutting down. It means they're having trouble remembering anything that happened once they were heavily damaged. It's a common enough occurrence with heavy trauma to the cranial and chest area," the medic admitted while turning back to study his patients with a critical optic.

"So...what happened? Did you guys show up and kick con aft?" The ruby twin looked back and forth between the Prime and the medic, a slightly cheerful and crooked grin creeping up in expectancy. Said bot's glanced at each other and exchanged a look. It didn't go unnoticed.

Now Sunstreaker's optics narrowed further, "I don't remember much after I put Sideswipe's spark in my chest...but someone showed up. Someone was there for awhile." This wasn't a question, but a stated fact. His brother bobbed his helm in agreement.

Ratchet stared at him with wide optics, "You _couldn't_ have felt people around you while in the spark container. Or at least, you shouldn't remember it. Your memory banks weren't functioning once your sparks left your body..." Ideas flicked through his processor, "Are you absolutely certain you can't recall anything after moving Sideswipe's spark?" He questioned Sunstreaker, confusion evident on his faceplates.

"Wait, spark container?!" Sideswipe straightened up, "Our sparks were in a spark container?" He looked at his brother but the golden twin looked just as surprised. By now both of them were staring at their commanding officers with trepidation, postures agitated. They ignored the medic's question.

Optimus held up a servo, "Let us explain. Please." The red and blue Autobot added the last word to calm the frontliners. The Twins flicked optics to each other for a second before relaxing just a hint.

"When the first team got there, your frames were unresponsive. They couldn't get a spark signal from either of you." Tension suddenly lit upon them again, servos clenching and optics turning a shade paler.

Ratchet snarled baring his denta, "And the cons paid for it. They weren't moving too much after we were through." He recalled arriving at the scene and staring in horror. Ironhide and Prowl were tearing the Constructicon's apart and as soon as the others behind him arrived, they joined in.

_He stood overlooking the muddy field and below him cries of pain filled the air. Calm and collected Prowl was shooting at Mixmaster and got an opening. The taction rushed inward, delivering a crushing strike with his fist to the already dizzy cement mixer. The decepticon fell while Ironhide roared and pummeled Hook. He caught a glance of Scavenger turning tale and fleeing the fight with a crushed arm and busted leg. The medic broke into a run and wove through the battle to get to the Twins. Above he had seen the shattered bodies, the dark optics. But he had still hoped. Even when he couldn't find the spark signals the ambulance had hoped he had been wrong. They couldn't be gone, they just couldn't. Not the Twins._

The seekers had shown up to retrieve their teammates per their lord's instructions and many an Autobot had started after them. Only his order's as CMO and with the help of Prowl did they stop the others from following their retreating enemies. Ratchet had refused to lose any other bot to the Decepticons that day. If he hadn't been so worried about his friend's lives he would have gone ahead and torn apart the cons himself. The Twins were one of his and the grief had nearly overwhelmed him.

Optimus continued, unaware of Ratchet's inner hurt, "Your frames were retrieved and brought back, but we thought you were dead. There were no sparks in your body." His voice was low and he seemed very tired all of a sudden, the anguish and gloom that had settled in their base for the past week seeping through his words. No one had been unaffected. The entire place had been eerily quieter than normal, hushed conversations and saddened looks, no music in the rec room, no brawls in the hallways, no cheerful greetings as the shifts changed. Even the dinobots were suddenly less anxious to be about and remained in their room. The only loud noise to be heard was from the training room were many vented their rage and anguish.

"What happened?" Sunstreaker hissed quietly.

"Almost two days ago a human showed up with the container that held your sparks." Ratchet huffed, once again composed and back to his normal irritated self, "Sunstreaker, do you carry a spark container on your person?"

The frontliner frowned in response and paused before digging into his subspace pocket and coming up empty, "It's gone."

"Wait, you carry one of those? Why?" Apparently Sideswipe had not known about this.

"For emergencies," Snarled Sunny, whacking his brother's helm.

"Hey! Stop that! I am the only one allowed dealing damage in this room and I just put you both back together!" Ratchet waved a tool threateningly at them. Both settled down although Sunstreaker was still scowling. He sneakily nudged his brother with his knee. The medic's glare deepened.

The Prime tried to get the conversation back on track, "The human woman said she approached you Sunstreaker, while the both of you were injured on the battlefield. She said you had told her to bring the container to us and then you had put both of your sparks in there." He tilted his helm at the patients, watching to see if any recognition sparked in their optics.

Ratchet joined in, "This was almost a week after you two took on Devastator by yourselves. It's been nine days." The red and white bot moved over to once again check the monitors that were hooked up to the Twins and make sure nothing had changed.

Both Autobots had frozen faces, not moving and not giving away any emotion. There was a reason you didn't play poker with the Twins. Quietly Sideswipe clicked something to his brother, turning toward him. Sunny have a harsh whistle in reply and shook his head in obvious denial, brows furrowing in anger. This was the language the Twins had come up with a while ago and they were the only ones to speak it.

"Boys..." The medic narrowed his optics and leaned forward.

Sideswipe suddenly looked up at him, the ruby mech's gaze completely focused on Ratchet, "Where'd the human go?" His brother made an angry sounding trill and a few clicks. The CMO gave a hard stare in return. They meant where in the Ark was she, right? There was absolutely no way they could know that the woman was gone.

"Shay Carpenter left earlier today when Ratchet started putting your sparks back. She left a note for the both of you." Optimus watched his warriors carefully while he straightened and handed them the folded paper. The CMO raised an optic ridge in surprise. He hadn't known about the note. Sideswipe reached out and carefully opened it. With a blank face that would have done their tactician proud he showed it to Sunstreaker before folding it once again and putting it in his subspace. He stared off into space with a vacant gaze while the golden mech's optics went nearly white as pitch servos clenched their seat, making the metal creak.

The paper read:

_The Lightning Was Pretty._

_- Shay_

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><p>Now I have all of you hooked trying to figure out what's going on. *mwahahaha*<p> 


	6. Part Two Gathering Wind

Part Two Gathering Wind

I want to thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or is following this, because that shows me people actually like the crap I write and that means a lot to me. So thank you.

On another note: We're past the beginning of the story so many chapters from here on out are going to be in Shay's point of view, just to let you know.

A song to listen to when Sunstreaker is talking with Shay: Dark on Me by Starset

Shay's theme song: Fade Away by Zach Hemsey

Lastly- I don't own Transformers, just Shay

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><p><em>One week before Shay arrives at the Ark<em>

It was raining, blast it.

It was not supposed to be raining. Or at least, not for another hour. But nooooooo, not only was water pouring from the sky but thunder rumbled through the surrounding hills and woods. In the distance I could see lightning above the treetops. Absolutely freakin' perfect.

With a sigh, I made sure the zipper on my large waterproof bag was completely closed and pulled wet strands out of my eyes. No point in trying to avoid it. I was already soaked and freezing cold. But the food was still dry and that's what mattered. Securing the bag once more to the basket on the back of the bike tilted the weight to the end, but I could still ride.

"I was going to take a shower when I got home anyways." I muttered out loud, trying to keep my balance going down the hill. Riding a bike on wet ground means you go faster, but it also means very little balance. Thankfully the ground leveled out a bit more. As long as I stayed on the pavement I would be okay. Another clap of thunder made me wobble as I stopped and tried to see my surroundings better.

A farmhouse on a hill up ahead to the left. Trees grouped in clusters down the hillside, like the forest was reaching fingers into the tamed and cut plots. On the right the land remained mostly flat with occasional copses of oaks and then sinking down. The fields were barren and empty now that it was October. Shorn and cut cornstalks were all that remained in the mud. The pearl gray skies above let loose a thicker torrent and everything was simply drizzled in a dark film. And I was only halfway home. Aurgh.

Trying to ride would only end with me falling in the mud or scraping myself on the slick blacktop. Climbing off I walked my bike and kept an eye out for deeper puddles and an ear for vehicles. But between the wind pushing branches together, rain hitting everything, and the rumblings above, I doubted I'd be able to hear a car unless it was really close anyways.

At least the rain made everything smell nice. There was that strong clear, almost sharp, scent of falling water I usually appreciated, but once the ground was soaked it gave off a musty loam smell that was always pleasant. Stepping around a branch that had blown across the road, my boots clonked heavily and sloshed muck and water away from my feet. Then the ground shook.

I froze where I was and looked around rapidly. Why was the ground shaking? We _never_ got earthquakes here. I must have imagined it...

A sharp rage filled howling smashed through the skies, fighting for dominance over the thunder. I openly gaped, jumping and dropping my bike and the pack with it in surprise before whirling around and looking every which way, trying desperately to see what was causing this. Another low tremor made the dirt and deepening puddles quiver. A crash came from far to the right, where the land dipped into a half-bowl shape.

What the hell...Do I go look? What if it's dangerous...Someone could be hurt...Glancing around I found I was still the only one out in the middle of the thunderstorm. Of course, everyone else was actually smart enough not to be caught in this. With a narrowed look I flicked my eyes between my dropped bike and then back towards the fields and trees. Shouting rent the air, joining the cries and thunder.

Shit. Someone sounded pretty hurt. Damn it all.

No more stalling. I dashed across the field, sharp cornstalks cracking under my boots and mud trying to slow me down. Another roar and words I couldn't understand were bellowed, drowning out the thunder as a horrendous screech of metal on metal had me covering my ears. Holy...! What was making that sound!? A gargantuan boom echoed like the tumult above as everything shook, much worse this time. So much so that even as my arms went out to keep balance the world seemed to lose it's center and I fell to my side in the muck.

Rapidly I got up, breathing hard, but there was a relative silence. Rain still tapped, thunder rumbled ominously above, and the branches nearby clacked together. But my ears couldn't catch the sound of words or shouting. Beneath me the field was now still.

Uh-oh. I ran forward again. Bad idea. You're going to get yourself killed. Shut up. Someone could be hurt. You can't just _ignore_ this! You have to see what happened! Reaching the end of the field I looked down to slope. A favorite of the children in winter, it was now a trap to cause broken legs. Mud, rock and rain slid down in rivers. At the bottom, (roughly two football fields length), was metal. Lots of metal.

At first my mind stalled, trying to understand what I was seeing. There appeared to be giant metal forms covered in mud and different colored fluids. Cracked glass panes showed between twisted and ragged metal shapes. Sparks hissed from cut wires and guttered out in the rain. After a few seconds of openly staring I realized that they were bodies. A head set against shoulders, a hand, there a leg unattached to anything. Giant metal bodies. Holy freakin' shit.

They slumped unmoving, strewn across the field. Most appeared to be purple and an odd green color with a hint of yellow. Nearest to me was a red and black one who lay against the slope. On the shoulder a red symbol in the shape of a face was visible. A symbol I had seen more than once on the television. Autobot.

Oh. They were Cybertronian. That...that explained it. But if that one was an Autobot then some of the others here must be Decepticons. Shit. And all of them appeared pretty roughed up. Double shit.

_Crrrrreeeeaaaakkkkk_. I jerked and twisted a little to see one of the bodies move. There next to the red one was another. I hadn't seen it at first because it was partially behind the other in my line of vision and all of them were pretty hard to distinguish as they were right then. It moved again, shifting a little and a pain filled groan sounded.

Before I'd realized it my legs were slipping and sliding down the slope. Damn, I hope it's not dead yet. Shit shit shit. Stumbling and nearly falling headfirst I finally made it to the bottom and carefully skirted the other bodies to get to the moving one. New scents filled the air as I moved, acrid and bitter. Some of them I couldn't figure out how to describe and a few others had the strong stench of burning. On closer inspection the other bot appeared to be a golden color and looked very similar to the carnation colored one, albeit he had both his legs and his helmet-like head looked to have a different design. One arm wrapped itself around what I guessed to be the chest while the other stretched itself to his comrade, going around the back and clinging to the opposite shoulder with an iron grip, keeping the unmoving one next to him. His friend's eyes were dark, his own a flickering dull blue.

"Hey," my voice wasn't loud enough above the pouring rain, "Hey! Do you want some help?!" I called louder, shivering in my soaked state. It ignored me and stared blankly.

"Hey! You look like shit! Do you want some help or not?!" I hollered louder with my hands cupped around my mouth, trying again. The black and yellow head turned to look at me and I leaned away, fighting the urge to take a step back. Easy girl, you saw the Autobot symbol. He can't hurt you right now anyways. He's torn up and you're fast.

"Beat it," a snarl in a rough and low voice that was definitely male and then a groan as he glared at me with eyes that kept dimming. His expression however, remained dazed and unfocused. I squinted up at him and wrapped my arms around my shivering midsection. What do I do now? I don't have the foggiest idea on how to help.

Suddenly he lurched, the upper half of the Autobot pulling forward so he was bent over, leaning towards me. I froze and fought the urge to bolt as the damaged bot tilted his head and tried to focus on me. My heart beat rocketed skyward as fear and adrenaline shot through my veins.

"You...you have to take these...to others...Autobots...Don't let...Cons catch...you.." Static overlay and shorted out his words as metallic lips valiantly tried to form what he was saying. I nodded yes automatically, if I could help...Wait.

"Take what?" I called out as he leaned back against the mud and rock slope. What the hell was I supposed to take to the Autobots?! I moved forward around the puddle of pink and black fluids, hopping over shards of cracked metal and shattered glass littering the ground. How could I help if I didn't know what to take care of?

The golden one ignored me and moved his giant hand from his comrade's shoulders and reached down, suddenly holding a cylindrical glass container. Where had that come from? He pulled it closer to his chest and the top opened in flower-like procession, overlapped layered sheets unfolding outward. The plating on him shifted, creaking and making odd unidentifiable sounds as they slid back. A blue glow emanated from the cavity within.

"Keep...safe..." He growled again and put the container right up against his chest. I stared in horror with wide eyes as shots of blue electricity crackled out and with it two glowing orbs that settled in the cylinder. A tea-kettle keening erupted from him as one of his legs suddenly kicked out and he thrashed, spraying mud and water to the side and on me as I ducked to avoid being pummeled by a metal limb. His body fell limp.

What...what just...I dashed forward as the black hand that held the container thumped on the ground. No, no. Don't be dead.

Climbing on the rain slicked metal was tricky but I managed to pull myself up and stood on his legs, keeping balance as my boots slid. Please don't be dead. You can't be dead, you were just alive. Please, please, please. Terror and panic whirled at my core.

"Hey!" I screamed loudly, the echoes bouncing against the rock, my hands curled into fists as I roared up at him, "Wake up! …...Please..." I whispered quietly when he didn't respond as the storm drowned out my words. No creaking metal, no light in the glass eyes. Nothing at all.

NO, NO, NO, NO! "You're not allowed to die, damnit!" I bellowed at him as my breathing hitched and without thought my foot kicked out at where his abdomen would be, bringing forth a light clang. He...he, he...no. He couldn't just _die._ I stood numb in the rain as tears mixed with the water flowing down my face. I had just seen someone die. I had just seen an _Autobot_ die. My mind couldn't seem to wrap itself around this as the shivers on my spine increased and I stared with blank fascination at the thing in front of my, now devoid of presence. What...what do I do? As quickly as the grief had sprung up I pushed it away and felt only an emptiness inside. There was nothing to be done now. No one I could save. They were dead. The red one before I'd gotten here and now the yellow one. What the hell do I do now? The question drifted into my head but my numbing mind wasn't able to catch a plausible answer.

Or maybe...maybe there was one. A light to my left caught my eye and I studied the glass he'd held to his chest. Empty before, it now carried two glowing white orbs surrounded by a pulsing blue light that contrasted against the dark and dreary bitter environment surrounding it. They spun in tandem, around in circles, occasionally flashing brighter or dimmer. He said to keep these safe.

That thought snapped me out of the haze I'd been in. I had to keep this thing safe. Whatever it was. Carefully I maneuvered across the Autobot's lap, trying to ignore the fact that I was climbing on a corpse, and got to the other side. Now between both the red and yellow one panic slid into me once more, this time accompanied by grief. They were both dead, faces blank and eyes dark. My god, they were dead. Stuffing that aside I took a deep breath and calmed myself. Carefully I pulled the container from the lax grip of it's owner.

Symmetrical in design with metal on both ends, the top was now firmly closed with the thin panels overlapping one another. The closed openings had the exact same look, dark gray reflecting a bronze sheen in the rain. The thunder rumbled quietly above. Slowly I turned the glass so it sat upright, the spheres inside bouncing slowly. Crouching in the mud it came up to my chin. If I had been standing it would reach my thighs, almost to my waist. In the Autobot's hand it had appeared small. Really, I was short but it's wasn't tiny, just thinner than wide. The container was close to three hands across. Hesitantly I wrapped my arms around it, trying a hand at lifting. And almost fell over from my effort.

Whatever this was really made out of, and whatever was inside, was pretty light. I felt like I was carrying a rolled up rug, although not quite as awkward to carry. As I stood in the muck and contemplated what to do with this there came a crash. Flinching I turned to see one of the other transformers moving. A hand fisted and pushed against the soggy ground, heaving up the body attached to it. Another arm on the other side moved slowly and the green and purple giant was pulling itself up. Rain pinged on it's backside but didn't drown out the sound of gears grinding and whirling against each other. A deep breath as I gasped, sighting a purple symbol as it became visible on the chest. This one was just as well known as the Autobot symbol. Only this one was trouble. Even under the spray of multicolored liquids and mud, it was unmistakeable, Decepticon.

Shit. Double shit. If it saw me I was dead, but if I stayed here I would get killed anyways. And the Decepticon might get this container. Standing frozen for a few seconds I made my decision and bolted for the slope. Sliding around one of them set my nerves on edge but it wasn't moving and it kept me out of sight from the other. There was nothing to do about my thudding footsteps. I had to be quick. Let's hope they couldn't be heard over the noise of the weather.

Slipping and sliding I tried dashing back up the way I'd come. But the incline kept pushing me down and with both arms around the cylinder I kept sliding back. Damnit! Do you want to die! Below the giant creaked and rumbled, a quick look behind showed it getting up. No!

I scrambled higher, boots sinking into muck before finding ground on a patch of larger rocks. They clattered and slid a little as I dashed up and pulled myself up onto the flat cornfield. Panting and now thoroughly covered in mud, I struggled to stand. My legs trembled from the exertion. I had to run. If the decepticon saw me and wanted this, it would chase me. Internally groaning, my feet stumbled over the roots and broken stalks. The field had seemed much shorter the first time I had crossed it. Panting and running forward, much slower now, I tried to see where I'd dropped my bike. Side of the road, side of the road. Damn the rain for making everything much harder...There! There is was, at the curve on the edge of the pavement.

"Yes!" I breathed a sigh of relief and then stopped as I realized my dilemma; how to get out of here quickly when I needed my hands to steer my bike. Damn, damn, damn, damn... With a outward silent snarl I yanked up my bike and unhooked the ropes holding my backpack. Don't stop, you don't have time. Just get out of here to safety. Hissing nasty words I yanked open my bag and dumped out the food before stuffing the container inside. Not bothering to be distracted by the spinning lights I struggled to get the zipper closed. Hurry, hurry, hurry! Why did this thing have to be so tall?! Thank god I'd brought my large backpack to get groceries earlier.

Finally managing to secure it, I slung my bag back into the basket and tied it down with quick finger before pulled my bike up. Climbing on and kicking off, I quickly picked up speed despite the light weight I carried. With my heart hammering in my chest, the tires sliding over slippery pavement only caused me to go faster. Whipping around the bend I was off, not even worried about falling now. That would be a minor issue if I was caught.

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><p>I didn't normally swear but considering the situation it was justified. I normally consider myself to be a relatively calm person but if anyone else had been in my position then I'm sure they would have been cussing nonstop as well. Regardless, there was no Decepticon chasing me. And that was the only good thing I could think of.<p>

On the other hand, my person was a mass of soggy rain water crossed with a mud monster. My boots were toughened leather, meant to keep my feet dry, but there was still at least an inch or so of liquid sloshing around my toes in there. My hair was plastered to my skull and kept getting in my eyes. My entire being was shaking from adrenaline and exhaustion. I had a... thingamabob, from some dead Autobot in my bag, I had seen someone _die,_ and there was a possibility of a Decepticon or two that may or may not come after me. Don't forget I was charged with getting said thingamabob to some Autobots who were who knows where. And, I had lost the groceries. I was screwed no matter which approach I took on the situation.

Another low growl slipped out of my lips as I pulled into my yard and stowed my beat-up bike next to the truck in the barn and untied the bag. With a sigh I schooled my features to hide the frustration and worry before turning toward the house. A squat building with white-going-gray wood paneling and a columned porch sat up against the road. Scale-like shingles that were most definitely rusting tinged under the rain and matched the dark gray and green curtains I had picked out a few years ago. Kept people from looking in, satisfied Dad and they were not a horrid color. Between the old barn and the house itself was Dad's (mine really) garden that was gaining massive amounts of cucumber by the day. I was never going to plant so many again.

Tromping across the yard with my bag I kept a wary eye on the road in the direction I'd come. Lady Luck had seen fit to grant me a pass from sliding and falling in my hurry but that Con could still be following. There really was no telling if it had seen me. Now that I thought about it... The road curved. Marnie's fields were actually in the other direction. If that thing wasn't following the road but just came in this direction in a straight line, it would cut right through the woods.

A narrow glance toward one of my favorite havens and I contemplated the probability of that happening. No, I would hear it coming ahead of time if the Decepticon did choose to do so. And it would have trouble getting through all the trees. Taking a shortcut straight here wouldn't be a wise decision.

Without pause I pulled my groaning self up onto the porch and finally out of the rain. Now what the hell to do. I couldn't very well walk into the house like this. I also couldn't strip outside. Our neighbors weren't very close but I preferred not to risk it. Not to mention the fit Dad would have. Yes Dad, I am twenty-two, I think I can run around naked in the rain if I was to. Shut up brain and think of something actually useful, not stupid. Ugh, I was tired.

Finally I just pulled off my boots and jacket, setting the latter across the back of a wooden chair and then unlocked the door and headed straight for the laundry room. Stripping and shoving it all in the empty washer, I grabbed my pack and snuck upstairs to get fresh clothes. That quick dash was thankfully lacking in curious fathers and I wasn't seen. Closing the door with a sigh of relief I set the dripping bag on one of my bath towels and grabbed another before sneaking into the bathroom. Was I putting off dealing with something important? Yes, but no one was checking over my shoulder about it. And getting the mud out of my hair was crucial to avoid awkward questions. It wasn't an emergency and as far as I knew, a ticking clock was not hanging above my head. Just let me take a breather.

Warm water was heaven after the brutally cold rain and as expected the loss of dirt and other things from my person improved my mood. Until I dried off and noticed the bruises around my ankles. Those must have been caused by my boots when I was running. With that thought came back all the suppressed images and before I knew it I was curled up on the floor with tears running down my face. The grief from earlier reared up and dragged me down until my teeth were clenched shut to keep me from screaming out loud, the pain inside a physical essence pressed to my lips where it wanted out. I would have liked very much to punch the wall, knock the bottles from the shelf, scream to let it all out and cry that it wasn't fair for someone to die when I had tried to help. I wanted to save him. But if I started sobbing, if I did any of that, Dad would hear and then I would have to come up with an explanation. I couldn't lose control. A shallow breath and then a deeper one filled my lungs and the pain and despair left me, burned out as quickly as they'd come. My pumping lungs and heart started to slow from their quickened states.

Another moment to collect myself and I wiped away the tears that had scalded down my face. I wanted to stay on the floor and rest, I was so tired and worn out, but there were things to be done, whether I wanted to deal with them or not. Picking my exhausted self up from the tile, I got dressed and finger combed my hair as the dryer heated it up until it was no longer damp. Now done and realizing I couldn't put it off any longer, I went to my room.


	7. Chapter 7

This wasn't as much fun to type because there were less interesting things and more about Shay at home but ...eh. It was funny how far off the mark she was about what the sparks were. XD Also- super protective dad appearance.

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><p>I had no frickin' clue what this thing was. That much was certain. Sitting on my rug I contemplated the very odd object before me. Drying said container revealed nothing and while I wasn't an expert at technology, there were no buttons. Most devices had buttons, so I could probably rule that out. Which left a) a power source, b) an object of mass destruction, or c) some freaky lava lamp. I highly doubted it was the last one, it was completely ridiculous. I really needed a nap. But it was obviously important if that guy was going to trust a random stranger to take care of it over the possibility of a Decepticon getting ahold of the container. It would most likely be a very bad thing if the Cons got it. Maybe it really was an object of mass destruction. That seemed to be something they would go after.<p>

But then, did they make it? Or was it a weapon the Autobots made? Were they fighting over it?

With a sigh, I leaned back against my bed. I didn't have the answers to these questions. Urgh.

I stared at nothing at all while I thought, gazing unblinking around the room. Books, papers and CDs were set in neat piles by the old stereo on my desk. Next to my dresser, shelves emerged from the wall. The top two held my books, from slim volumes of history and ancient worlds to slightly thicker pieces about plant species and how to books. How to plant a night garden, how to make quilts from scrap cloth, how to sharpen knives properly, how to make arrowheads. Many of the books had come from my father's collection but a greater number had been bought and found over the years. Only two folders on the shelf held important paperwork, the rest being downstairs in the office room. Just below was the shelf that held my two slingshots, worn and used over the years. A plastic tub of marbles rested by a basket of rounded rocks and a pack of steel balls. The last and lowest spot held pine-cones, chunks of quartz that were tiny in size, and leaves dried from months past. Dad grouched that we shouldn't have such things in the house but since they were in my room, he wouldn't toss them out, just complain about it. Eventually I'd put them back in the woods were I'd found them before collecting more the following Spring and Autumn. On the pale blue walls hung two posters. One showed the moon hovering over the ocean waves at night. The other above my bed was a forest scene at dawn with mist weaving between the trees, a down-shot from above.

Uuuaaaarrrggghh. Sitting here wasn't going to get me the answers. Rubbing my face with a sigh I poked the container with hesitance, the glowing spheres inside spinning closer to my hand. The other Autobots would know. And he said to take this to them. Giving it to the police wouldn't guarantee good results. He entrusted it to me, which means _I_ have to get it to the Autobots. I scowled at the container. Why did he have to do that? I don't have a clue on what I'm doing. So I couldn't hand it to the authorities, and telling my father would most likely have bad results. He meant well, but wouldn't want us involved in this, whatever _this_ was. He'd see it as dangerous and get rid of it as quickly as possible.

Laying on my stomach I looked at the object and ran my fingers up and down the glass, drawing the orbs into following my fingers, the blue glow playing across my face. Why couldn't I just do it? That Autobot asked me to take this to the others. Was I really going to go against a dead person's wishes?

Dangerous plan versus safe familiar home. Responsibility vs safety. Responsibility. Safety. Responsibility. Safety. Grrrrrrrr.

Well, guarding this and taking it to the Autobots was the right thing to do. I couldn't just hand it over to someone else! What if the Decepticons got it? And I don't really trust anyone else with this right now. This was my responsibility. I had to do this. I owed it to him.

With a sigh, I dropped my head to rest against the floor, "Sorry Dad, but I know you won't let me do this. And I really have to. I really hate being the perfect daughter all the time you know." I mumbled aloud, the wood muffling my words. "You're just going to have to let me do my own thing this time."

Ah, how to do this. It is tricky business to leave without just up and disappearing mysteriously. More planning was needed, I thought, looking up and eyeing the bright container. I would definitely have to take my slingshots.

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><p>I had made a quick list and planned out what to take, because I am the sort of person who likes to be prepared and usually tries to plan things out. Most of the time it was a mental plan, but if there was paper and pencil nearby, well that was even better. Tying my brown hair back and settling cross-legged on the floor once again, I gave the container (device?) a hard stare before starting my plan. The only response was a flickering glow that pulsed mildly brighter than the light on the ceiling. Through the window dark clouds tumbled across the sky. At least it had stopped raining.<p>

A sigh.

supplies:

bag 1: food, water, clothes, wallet

bag 2: large bag- container

on person: knife, slingshot, steel balls

get keys and leave.

call Boss

sneak out of house

hit the road

I needed to get to the computer to find out where I would be going. That meant going downstairs and facing my father. Oi. This would be fun to deal with. Tiredly, I rubbed my forehead and hoped the recent soaking wouldn't cause a headache.

Cementing my expression into something neutral and altogether not worried, I quietly walked down the stairs. I had seen the truck in the garage, which meant he was home. Normally he'd be at work right now, seeing as it was Wednesday and I didn't work until tomorrow so he'd taken the truck this morning. But if it was in the barn then he'd probably got off early. Lovely. Coming around the corner I noted the water on the floor. Maybe I could get that up before he noticed...

"Shay," Aurgh. No such luck. I turned to see my father taking a sandwich out of the microwave. Maybe you find it odd that I still live with my father even though I'm an adult, but I think there are others who do it too. We don't have a ton of money lying around and my Dad's happy with me staying with him for a while. Sometimes life sucks. Deal with it. I'm working on the situation, I just don't know where I want to go yet. Don't judge me because I don't have it all figured out.

"There's water by the door." A voice that is deeper than my own- slightly scratchy but warm, it always reminds me of the house, although I don't know why. I nodded in his general direction before turning right around and grabbing an old towel from the laundry room to wipe up the liquid. When I got back to the kitchen I looked at the clock and then him eating the grilled cheese. The blue numbers on the oven said one-forty five. He never ate lunch when he was supposed to, or breakfast or dinner for that matter. I didn't really either but at least I tried to eat at the right time.

My father was on the taller end of the scale but still slim. Darian Carpenter could have passed for someone younger than thirty-five except the graying hairs and slightly grizzled chin gave way to his real age of just over forty-seven. Darker hazel eyes studied everything with a tired but meticulous air. Like my own, dark crescent hung under them and never left. While my skin wasn't dark, it was tanned from the hours spent outdoors. Dad's was paler, as he worked indoors at the bank and didn't tend the garden as I did. The ways we looked similar were in our broad facial features and deep set eyes, as well as the same shade of sun-streaked brown hair. His fell just past his ears, mine half-way down my back. My hair was one of my only vanities and that is the only reason it wasn't shorter. It got in the way far to much.

A word on my father, Darian is a man who likes to make sure everything is the way it is supposed to be, at least in his eyes. He was very protective of me (paranoid) and wanted the best, my only problem being he tended to be a bit _too_ involved. He cares, he really does, but I can not stand things that hold me, and his hold is very strong. Don't take my word for it please, as much as I've tried to remove myself from the situation to study it, my opinion is slightly biased. I want to be left alone a little, to gain some space, but he's always trying to help me or make me better.

I have to do things on my own because, while he says learning not to be dependent on anyone is good, he will step in at the first mistake and fix it for me before spending half an hour explaining what I should have done. Often followed by another half an hour of useful advice on life in general or society or something or other. Growing up wasn't bad, I always had one parent to rely on. But people make me itchy and as comfortable as I am around him I usually need a break after interacting with my father, just to relax. There is a reason my room is somewhat sparse, (at least compared to others). The more things he knows about me, the stronger his hold. If I left all the things I liked the most in my room, then he would eventually see them and try to get me more, to make me happy. I suppose I'm a very weird person, not wanting attention and presents from a parent, but I'm an adult, even if he tends to forget that. Gifts just make me guilty, that I don't want them and that I always have to find a way to pay them back.

But as I said, he tended to make sure everything was in it's place, so it was no surprise when he asked what I had known was coming, "Did you get the groceries in town like I asked?" a polite question that could have been a curiosity but in reality, was a hand grenade under the rug. He leaned back against the counter as he munched his food, one arm folded across his waist. I mimicked him with my arms crossed and stood straight in the middle of the room. A slight sniff before I answered. That sandwich smelled good. The normal kitchen smell didn't help my hunger either. Cinnamon and bread scents were delicious. Traitorous stomach, I thought as it gave a faint rumble.

"I was going to but the storm rolled in earlier than the weather man said. I turned back and ended up soaked anyways." I replied with a bland tone and a bored expression. As much as I would prefer not to admit this, I can lie well enough when needed. The best poker faces come from many years of practice. Faking calm, I stood still and relaxed my stance a bit. Dad frowned and his brows furrowed.

"You didn't get the food? Do you have a good idea for dinner then? Because I was gonna make french toast." Warning tones underscored his words. If I were lucky no one would notice the bread, eggs, cheese and other foodstuffs lying next to the road. And if they did, then hopefully they wouldn't mention it to my father or the fact that I'd been in town. Unfortunately, I would have to pull fifty or so bucks out of my saved money to cover the missing cash. Damn.

"There's leftovers in the fridge. I'll think of something and go tomorrow... French toast? Aren't you eating bread right now?" My face shifted into an 'are you serious' look with one eyebrow higher than the other.

Darian shrugged and gave a faint snort, "Eating bread never harmed anyone. Besides, it's healthier than the sandwiches they have at all those fast food restaurants." I nodded as expected, used to hearing his healthy eating lectures, "Oh Shay, the price of eggs went up. You'll have to take some more money tomorrow while you're out." Practice kept me from rolling my eyes. It wasn't his fault, really. But I already knew the price had gone up. I did actually pay attention. There was no reason for me to be irritated just because he was telling me something I already knew. He was trying to be helpful. Be nice Shay. Ignoring the inner voice I focused on Dad again, as he was still talking.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," He had gotten up and moved to ruffle my just dried hair. Face to face, hazel eyes watching blue, my father was only a few inches taller than me with the top of my head level with his nose. A smug smile graced his features, "Kaitlin offered to sell us eggs at half price because of the porch you helped her with." Ms. Atalaid was one of our closer neighbors who had been painting her porch a couple months back and I had offered to help, seeing as I hadn't anything else to do at the time. She also raised chickens on her farm. But Dad was always smug when he found a way around money problems. I didn't really care anymore as long as I eventually saved up enough for my own vehicle, like we'd been trying for the last few years. I technically had enough to get a cheap apartment around here but trucks were a bit more expensive and I needed a way to get around. My bike just didn't cut it sometimes.

Giving the expected small smile at the gesture of affection finished our family ritual and he turned toward the living room, heading down the hall, "Hey," I called after him, "You didn't tell me why you're home early." You aren't the only one who gets all the useful information around here buddy.

Dad didn't turn around, "Got off early. Off for the next two days." Huh, I'd called it. And as soon as no eyes were upon me my smile dropped and I returned to my normally blank face. Now that that was taken care of, I could get on to the things that needed done. Dinner didn't need to be started until later. Which left getting the materials I required for leaving and a quick search for the location. On to the computer it was. Our house was two stories but it wasn't that large, meaning there were only so many rooms. Besides the two upstairs bedrooms, there was a closet and a bathroom. Downstairs lay the kitchen, laundry, living room, a short hallway and office. Neither of us really cared for a dining room. I tended to eat in the kitchen or my room, unless my presence was required in the living room were Dad usually ate. Down the hallway I went. Once in the office room I booted up the computer (one of the few newer and working things we actually had) and started searching. In a few moments I had my answer to where I would be going. It was no secret to where the Autobots were.

Mount St. Hilary; Portland, Oregon

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><p>I was on the road, finally. Sneaking two bags (one carrying the container) out to the truck and hiding them had been relatively easy. Seeing as one of our uncles from Canada had made his monthly call and Darian would be on the phone for an hour or more, I'd had plenty of time. Fixing a makeshift dinner and them calling my boss had been simple as well.<p>

_"Hi, you've reached Donna Briar. I can't get to the phone right now, so please call back or leave a message and I'll try to get to you." A beep signaled that the phone was now recording. The corners of my lips turned up. Leaving a message would make this easier. _

_"Hello Donna, it's Shay about work. You've been telling me to take a few days off for awhile now so I've decided to do that. I just wanted to give you a heads up." She would be grouchy about the short notice but she had other helpers and it wasn't like we were getting a ton of people over at the shop right now anyways. I wasn't really needed all that much. Ending the message and turning off my phone, I made sure my knife was inside my sturdiest jacket. Tying up the laces on my recently cleaned leather work boots and grabbing one of my slingshots, I was almost set. A quick nap and one more thing. _

The last thing to be done before leaving was to check something. This wasn't essential, and it didn't really need to be done, but it would make me feel better. An inner voice worried that I was wasting time. I grumbled back that I couldn't leave till Dad went to bed anyways. If I tried to leave now he wouldn't let me take the truck, especially to go on a road trip halfway across the country. No, it would be better if he didn't know I was leaving. The risks of this little adventure failing before getting started were too high otherwise. Although it wouldn't surprise me if he called the police to report me missing, regardless of the note I was going to leave.

One last thing to do before going.

_The rusting shovel scraped the last layer of dirt away to reveal dented metal beneath. Brushing away the loose wet soil, I pulled the old toolbox out of the shallow hole where it had been buried. Under a tiny rock overhand and out of the sun guaranteed no plants would set their roots down around my hidden box. I wiped away a bit more of the crumbly sediment before pulling a small key from my pocket and unlocking it. Lifting the dirty blue lid revealed the treasures inside._

_Three beat up and dog-eared notebooks full of copied poetry, a stuffed brown cat, a carved wooden bear the size of my hand, a small knife with a handle made of bone, a silver chain hair net with turquoise drops and a matching necklace, a few old journals and paper flowers that were fragile with age. At the bottom between everything else sat little clusters of shiny amethyst chunks and acorns. Broken chips of stained glass and a single flint arrowhead rested in a neat pile in the corner._

_I smiled in delight, seeing my treasures. Perhaps I was a little too old to be hiding things in the woods like a child, but I had been doing it for so long it had become habit. One I couldn't, nor wanted to, break. Relieved that my secret things were still here, I sniffed carefully to make sure nothing smelled like rot and checked for cracks. All I got was a whiff of woods, dust and old paper. Carefully I leaned back on my heals instead of the wet ground, pondering the thought of taking this box with me. Mulling it over I shoved away the twinges of unease. Leaving them unguarded made me twitch, but no one knew they were here, and the probability of my things being found while I was gone was very slim. I had to travel light. Taking my box was not only unnecessary but risky as well. I could not allow it's loss. It would be safer here._

_Quietly I listened to the evening birdsong as the toolbox was once again locked and placed in the soggy ground. Now covered with dirt and a few damp Autumn leaves scattered under the ledge perfected the image that nothing was out of the ordinary here. Sighing, I stretched and made my way back through the trees. As long as I could come back to my treasures, I would be alright._

And now I was on the road, headlights in the mirror peeling back as I drove away from my familiar town and west into the night. If someone was out there listening, maybe they heard my whispered request for safety and luck. With the windows cracked open to bring in humid chilly air and the radio silent, I put my foot on the gas and started the insane adventure that I was sure was going to get me killed.


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you everyone who has reviewed, faved or is following this. It really makes my day.

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><p>I do not like people. That fact just needs to be clear so that my actions are understandable. People make me uncomfortable and avoiding them at all costs is a long held practice. So, while I did have enough money to rent a hotel, it seemed more preferable to save it and just sleep in the truck. Save the money for food, don't have to go talk with someone about renting a room, and I would probably get more sleep here than in an unfamiliar bed.<p>

The first night I stopped in an empty parking lot outside a train yard. My father and I had passed this place a number of times before, but that did not mean it was safe. Fortunately, I had checked under the seats before I left and had found the metal baseball bat that frequented that space. Did I mention my father's paranoia? Whether or not it was over the top, the bat was a welcome weapon. A couple knives and some steel balls to the eye can only do so much damage.

By that time it was nearly four in the morning and I was about to crash. Pulling over and making sure the doors were locked, I settled into the back before pausing. The container was hidden under a blanket, just under the seats, but I still thought something didn't seem right. Doors locked, windows up, a thick blanket to keep me warm, container hidden, weapons in reach... Finally I sighed and pulled the object out. Settling the glowing thing next to me, I curled up and covered everything with the comforter once more. It was safer if I just held onto it. Laying on my side with my knees drawn up put the metal cylinder against my chest. The nearby city lights blocked out any stars I may have seen from my window, as my head lolled back and I relaxed. Drifting off, it occurred to me that the container seemed warm.

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><p>The Ark was quiet, nestled in the mountain. It was night time, meaning it was always slightly quieter than in the day, but now the silence seemed oppressive. A gloomy film covered everything. Only three mechs sat in the rec room. The only reason for their state of consciousness instead of recharge was the change of shift soon. Well, Cliffjumper and Hound had a shift soon. Ironhide just wasn't in the mood to recharge.<p>

Not a word was said as the large rust red warrior downed another cube. Hound just sat slumped over onto the table staring at nothing while the minibot glared at his energon. Finally he quietly spoke up.

"I say we do something about this. The….Twins... and I don't, I mean didn't, always get along...but the cons can't just get away with something like this. They can't just kill some of ours and go creeping back to their ship!" Cliffjumper's face was twisted into a scowl as he glared at nothing. He may not have liked the Twins that much, (far too many pranks would be the cause), but he hated the Decepticons more. The green tracker didn't bother to look up as his helm slumped farther down to rest on their table. Ironhide, on the other hand snarled.

"And wut would yah have us do? Prahm said nobody, an' a' mean nobody, leaves." A thick southern accent colored his words. It had grown more pronounced within the last twelve hours.

"Why won't Optimus let us have a go at them?! We can't just..." the minibot's tirade was cut off by Ironhide slamming his fist down on the table.

Partially standing and leaning forward he towered over Cliffjumper, "Do ya' really think this is the first tahm he's lost some bots?! He ain't wantin' tah lose aneh more a' us Jumper. If it was mah choice I'da already left tah get aftah them. But we ain't Prahm so we're ain't goin' nowhere. Hush yer vocalizah already." He growled, pale optics glaring out of a furious face. Ironhide wasn't the best person when it came to keeping his temper and his comrade's words were starting to get to him. Luckily Hound had heard enough.

Lifting his head a few inches, the forest green jeep looked over tiredly, "Can we not fight? I don't think it will help anything." Not a trace of the usual cheeriness could be heard in his words. Both red Autobots looked at each other for a moment and then at their quiet friend before the tension fled from their postures and Ironhide sat back down. Cliffjumper resumed glowering at his cube.

Silence once again reigned with the occasional crash echoing from the hall. The only loud noises to be heard lately were from the training room. By the sound of it, someone was tearing apart the training drones again. This would be the third time they'd run out in the last half a day. After a few minutes the doors slid open and a metal stegosaurus peeked his head in. Slowly Snarl walked in with his spiked tail dragging quietly across the floor. None of the mechs looked up.

Once he was in front of the other Autobots he spoke, startling them, "Grimlock say Twins not come back. This true?" he stared at them with sharp blue optics.

They looked at each other questioningly. Snarl was the quietest of the dinobots. Not in the way that he wasn't loud, but he didn't talk to any of the others as much. The fact that he was speaking to them, by himself, was a surprise. Finally Hound found his voice.

"...Yeah...They're dead. They're not coming back." He couldn't look the stegosaurus in the optic and turned away, posture completely drained of energy.

Cliffjumper studied Snarl, "Since when do any of you lot care if one of us offlines?" He questioned with the slightest bit of sarcasm in his voice. The dinobots didn't get along with the others and had made it perfectly clear several times that they thought they were the best because they were stronger and tougher than everyone else.

Snarl thumped his tail against the floor but didn't change his stance or transform. The other three mechs tensed in case he decided to fight. You learned early on not to piss one of them off or you got hurt. Badly.

But the mainly gray and yellow bot just looked at them, "Us dinobots respect Twins. They strong and good fighters. Look out for brother and other Autobots." His statement was met with wide optics as they thought over his words. Without anything else being said, Snarl lowered his head and went back out through the door.

No movement, no sound. After what seemed to be an eternity Hound stood and Cliffjumper followed after checking his chonometer. Their shift was starting.

* * *

><p>For a few minutes I drifted in the place between awake and asleep. And then I lurched with a start when I realized that my bed was not were I had been resting. Lying across the back seat of my Dad's truck I caught the first glimpses of sunlight peaking above the skyline past the fields. My blanket was scrunched up around me and I looked down to find myself hugging the very warm metal container as if it were a teddy bear. A very large teddy bear, considering it almost came up to my waist, but I was hugging it nonetheless. Thankfully there was no one to see such a display.<p>

Straightening, I groaned and wished my body had let me sleep another few hours. Curse my inability to get a good rest in unfamiliar places. With a sigh, I crouched and pulled breakfast out of the cooler. An apple and a turkey sandwich. Yum.

After downing some water and checking to make sure no one had messed with the vehicle while I slept, I settled back into the seat and eyed my cargo, the chilly morning air filtering in through the door cracked open. Why was it warm? I mean, it was obviously some sort of high tech _thing _but was it actually running? Was that why it didn't feel cold like metal usually did?

Frowning, I reached out to feel the glass. Warmth. The orbs floated around following my fingers again. Without realizing it, the corners of my mouth had started to turn up in a smile. Lowering my hand to the bottom of the cylinder, cool metal met my touch. Interesting. The orbs inside were making the heat, not the actual container. They were the more important piece here. Which made sense, seeing as how that Autobot had been carrying them inside his chest and not in this thing in the first place.

I decided I'd spent enough time in contemplation when I should be getting a move on. A check in the mirror revealed my hair to be a mess and my clothes rumpled. A sigh broke out of my chest, before I once again climbed into the back, this time to change into something cleaner. After pulling on a different shirt and another dark jacket, I finger combed my hair and tied it back once more. Time to hit the road again.

The day passed relatively slowly. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. I drove, stopped every few hours for a ten or so minute break, and munched on a granola bar or two. Passing cities, towns, and mostly flat farmland, time seemed to sweep by at an odd pace. It wasn't quick mind you, but _different_ may have been the better word to use. Most of it was quiet too, except when the windows were down and wind rushed in to blow past my face. I wasn't desperate enough to even try the radio. Along the way I couldn't help but pick out things that caught my eye. Two guys on cantering horses as they raced across a paddock, a helicopter zooming by overhead, buildings and roads and cars and more roads and argh. By the time dinner rolled around I had lost my interest in anything and everything around me and it felt like my eyes were going to bug out of my head from the constant staring. How did people drive for so long?! At least it was nice and sunny today. Probably to make up for all the rain the day before. Thanks weather. You're so nice.

Ugh. I was hungry again, and tired and the evening shadows had started to creep across the ground. They conquered the patches of light and moved on, leaving nothing bright as the sun sank. Pulling into a diner on the outskirts of a small city, I checked my map to make sure I was on the course I had planned and decided a little cash lost for food was better than eating what was packed. Warm food won out against chilly leftovers stored in the cooler.

There were tall structures ahead and probably nicer places to eat as well, but I could deal with some cheap food as long as there were no pickles with it. I do not like pickles. Cumbers yes, pickles no. Hiding the orbs under a blanket once more I got out and made sure I had everything on me. Wallet? Check. Slingshot? Hidden on inside of jacket, Check. Knives? Left in vehicle. As much as I would have loved to bring them with me, I was quiet sure the management would have problems with me carrying such things into their place and I wasn't about to tempt fate.

Apparently fate decided to mess with me anyways. As soon as I locked the door and started across the parking lot, dodging broken glass and weeds growing out of cracks, there came a growl. I turned to see green eyes watching me from the tangled growth and dumpsters. Another growl and then a bark. I snarled in return and gave a low rumble. Without stopping or speeding up I kept march across the old asphalt. Sorry bud if I'm in your territory. Just passing through. Don't mess with me.

I wasn't followed and quickly ordered something for my hollow stomach. Wolfing down the sandwich and fries, (sans pickles), it occurred to me that Dad would be so disappointed if he knew I was eating greasy junk. Unfortunately, I couldn't find it in myself to care. He couldn't expect me to follow his rules forever. And he would keep trying, no matter how old I was. He couldn't stop me now.

A flash of guilt at my non-caring attitude and then I finished eating and slipped out. No one had looked at me when I'd come in and no one paid any attention when I left, and that was just how I liked it. Fishing the keys out of my pocket, I had just hit the unlock button when something bit the back of my lower right leg.

"Aaahhh!" I shrieked at the sudden and unexpected pain and whirled to find a very dangerous looking dog snapping at my face. In the two seconds I used to study it I got a few things: it was hungry by the way I could see it's ribs so definitely a stray, it was not above attacking people by the way it had bit me and was now snarling, and it was probably a mongrel, as I didn't recognize what breed it was. None of that really was useful to me except that a very aggressive brown feral dog was attacking.

I kicked at it with my good leg and it bared very nasty looking teeth. Damn, this was a big dog. With another snarl and a constant rumble emanating from the stray, it lunged and went for my face. Two seconds of panic followed by instinctual anger. Adrenaline hit my veins and I forgot how tired I was in the face of a threat. With a yell I swung at it and the canine jumped back. I rushed it, hoping it would see I wasn't easy prey and back off. Instead the dog just got madder and started up an angry barking as it lunged forward and then back, trying to bite me the whole time. Baring my own teeth and sending another kick, I struggled to get my slingshot out and grab a ball. The stray managed to get it's teeth into my bad leg again.

Yelping in pain, I crashed to the ground and started wrestling with him. I was bigger yes, but now he could potentially get to my throat. Fighting to keep his biting mouth away from my face, I kicked and fought. Inside my thoughts yelled at me. MOVE! DON'T LET HIM BITE YOU! HIT DAMN IT! HIT HARDER!

With a howl, I finally tossed him off and slammed both my fists onto his muzzle. Whining and hurt, the filthy dog staggered back and turned tail. I gave another howl as a warning not to return and shakily started getting up to see people coming out of the diner. Ah shit. Just what I needed. A worried looking woman rushed over to me and started jabbering.

"We heard some noise and saw that thing attacking! Are you alright?! I bet there's a first aid kit inside..." She continued on hurriedly, all the while trying to gently put her arms under my right shoulder as if I needed to lean on something. With frustration, I realized I did. My ankle hurt like hell and a stinging pain went through it when I stood up completely. Shaking her off I shook my head and leaned away from all the people who were now trying to crowd around me, a panicked chatter blocking out the normal sounds of the night and the nearby city.

"No, no. I'm fine. Just a little bruised." I white lied and tried to get away. Too many people I didn't know, waaaaaaaayyyy to close. I needed to leave. Now.

A man spoke up, "Ma'am, you have to go to the hospital! If a wild animal bites you, you need a tetanus shot." Shitshitshit. I could not go to the hospital. There was no way to hide/explain the container and I absolutely could _not_ just leave it in the truck.

"Look, I'm fine. I'm leaving now." Ignoring the protests and pushing people out of the way I got into my truck and locked the doors. The concerned customers and possibly workers gawked at me and tried to argue but I had a closed window between us. Starting up and carefully maneuvering around people I got the hell out of dodge without looking back and put some distance between me and that incident. Which was not easy considering my ankle and lower leg felt like hell.

Finally after about fifteen minutes I was many miles away and almost alone on an empty stretch of road. Turning into a motel by the side, I pulled in and went to ask the management for a key. With only a curious eye at my current state, (I didn't know how I looked), it was handed over in exchange for some bills and I was carrying my bags into the room, trying not to limp. Damn that dog.

I was not in the mood to sleep in the truck tonight. Maybe tomorrow night. Argh. Stupid canine. I didn't do anything to you. Maybe I smelled like food, I had just eaten. Didn't matter, it was over with. Locking the door and setting my weapons in easy reach, I dumped the huge bag carrying my cargo on the bed and went into the bathroom with my first aid kit. Pulling my hair down I looked in the mirror. A mess greeted me.

Straggly hazelnut hair in a whirlwind style, a dirt covered jacket with several small tears and rips, a small red area on the side of my face. It may or may not form into a bruise. Exhausted gray-blue eyes looked back at me. Pulling the jacket off, I dumped it on the floor. Who knows what was on it, considering I was rolling on the ground and the stray was most definitely not clean. Sitting down on the toilet, I checked my leg to find my jeans weren't torn. Carefully peaking underneath I found the skin to be only slightly broken. The tough denim had kept it's teeth off me just not enough to stop the dog from drawing blood. So did I still need a tetanus shot if the animal didn't actually touch my skin with it's teeth? Shrugging it off as something to be dealt with at a more proper time, I dressed and bandaged the small wounds before rotating my ankle. Odd, it seemed to hurt more when the muscle was stretched. I snorted. Figures. The worst was actually a pulled muscle, not a dog bite. Oye fate, why do you enjoy messing with me so?

I changed into sweat pants and another shirt. I would have to find a place to wash my clothes soon, seeing as the amount I'd brought was limited. Exhausted and thoroughly done with today I curled up on the bed and hugged the container. It was warm alright? Bite me.

Sighing, I pressed my head to it and lazily watched the orbs swirl closer. Sinking into a half sleep, I let the panic and fear rush up before fading. It had been a long day, and completely different from what I was used to. Maybe tomorrow would be slightly less traumatic. A slight tug on my insides.

_Poke_.

I brushed the sensation aside. Tired and worried Shay meant not amused Shay ignoring whatever was being bothersome. It came again as the dread settled in my stomach.

_Poke. Comfort._

Huh, that was nice, I thought sleepily. It didn't occur to me to wonder what it was. Relaxing a slight bit at the nice feeling and finally drifting off completely, my mind shut down.

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><p><em>One turned it's attention to the other. Fear, anger, worry. They felt this from the Other. The one questioned if they should do something. They didn't like these feelings. They didn't like the Other feeling bad. One of them gave a shrugging feeling and watched with wary curiosity. The other one gently sent out a questioning. <em>

_Poke. _

_The bad feelings were still there. However, they could feel it when the Other felt the question. But there was no response. _

_Poke. Comfort. _

_Calmness took over, followed by drowsiness as they realized the Other was once again less awake than before. The Other had done this earlier. At least the bad feelings were gone now. Satisfied, one of them turned to the other one and they conversed in feelings and vague thought, as words did not exist in this place. What was to be done about the Other? _

_One of them did not trust this one so much. The other one didn't trust so easily either, but liked this one. The Other was keeping them safe. With nothing more to worry them, they responded to the Other's drowsiness with their own and settled in the dark warm place to rest. One presence curled around the other one's, leaving only feelings of content happiness as they slumbered together._

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><p>If anyone has any theories on what they think may happen next, I'd love to hear them. I already have almost everything planned out but I still want to hear what people think. Thank you for reading this so far.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

I would like to thank ksv12 for the advice and my sister for telling me to add pancakes in there somewhere.

So even in a spark container with no really coherent thoughts, Sideswipe can still manage to guilt trip people. Also, comparing the Twins to bunnies? Really Shay?

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><p>Comfy. Warm. Nice. I did not want to move. When my eyes opened, I rolled over and looked to the curtain-covered window. It was still dark out. I didn't know when I went to bed last night and I didn't know what time it was now. But I was nice and toasty warm, and if the sun wasn't up then I didn't need to be up and that was final. With that determined, I felt a funny snickering feeling pass through me.<p>

Odd. Why would I feel humor right now? Actually, now that I thought about it, last night was weird too. I'd dismissed the unexpected sensations because of exhaustion. Perhaps I should have paid more attention.

_Laughter_

Still curled around the glowing container, a stronger feeling of amusement bubbled through me. A response to my confusion. Shocked, I sat up and looked around. What the hell?

_Laughter. Snickering._

Oh, so my surprise was funny was it?

"Alright, what's going on?" I asked aloud with a scratchy morning voice and felt a bit ridiculous. Nothing in the plain room. This was weird. It almost felt like someone was looking over my shoulder. Then I glanced down to see the cerulean orbs flickering brighter than they had before. One in particular twirled in spinning circles right up against the side closest to me. Hesitantly, I placed a palm to the glass and waited. Worry settled in my gut once more. It was too early for this.

_Comfort. __Don't worry__. Snickering._

With a startled yelp, I jerked back and got tangled in the sheets. I overbalanced and fell off the bed with a thump. In a jumbled mess of emotions I got the idea that this thing didn't want to worry me, but thought my discomfort was funny. It was alive. Oh shit. Eying the container, I tried to get my hyperventilating lungs under control. I had been wrong about the container being a device or weapon. It was carrying something _living._ This was so not my day.

I sat up and peered suspiciously at it over the side of the bed. Slowly, I reached out to gently touch the metal cylinder again. My fingertips just barely brushed it. Then, another tumult of emotions hit, although not as pleasant as the first time.

_Sad. Hurt. __Gone?_

"Hey, I'm not leaving." I spoke automatically as I would to a scared child, as the abandoned feeling echoed through me. Jerking back must have startled it. Two its, I mentally corrected myself, as there are two orbs. The one was bouncing around physically as well as tossing emotions at me, while the other sort of hung there with a wary feeling. Both were emitting hurt. Crap. I wasn't just carrying an object, I was carrying two _living creatures_. Whatever they were. This put a whole new level of importance on keeping this safe. Them safe. Argh.

Keeping a hand on it, I climbed back up and sat in front of the cylinder. A deep breath and I thought of sitting outside in the sun on a nice day. Relaxing and peaceful. I tried to send that feeling back to the spheres, but I wasn't quite sure how well it worked.

They must have felt it though, because the hurt emotions left, replaced by a hyper cheerfulness from the bouncy one and a slight irritation from the other, "Are you guys psychic or something? If you get in my head, I'm gonna be pissed." No answer, out loud or mentally. Maybe they couldn't really understand me besides the emotions?

"How come this didn't happen before when I was carrying you around?" Another question ignored. Cheerful one seemed to be doing something along the lines of poking and it got on Sullen one's nerves. Then they appeared to be playing a mental game of chase or tag. Honestly, it made my mind a bit dizzy at the odd feelings and they looked just to be swirling around like always. Sighing, I wrapped my arms around it once more and settled it in my lap, resting my head on top. Closing my eyes, I wished for another couple hours of sleep.

I absolutely had to get these guys to the Autobots. They had to be kept safe. Things just got a lot more complicated. The sun wasn't even up yet dangit.

Giving another reassurance and drawing away slowly (less I risk another guilt trip), I slipped into the bathroom to take a shower. It was obvious that I needed one and I was very thankful that I'd packed a bottle of shampoo and soap. With that out of the way, I packed everything while eating and put on my last pair of clean clothes. At least the jacket would keep the morning chill off.

Ready to leave, I put my hands on my hips and studied the orbs, "Okay you two. I'm taking you home. So any other surprises you have should be mentioned now." As expected, nothing happened. Who could have possibly guessed?

Checking my phone I found it to be just at six a.m. And I was already starting to get a headache. Putting everything in the truck, I turned off my phone again when it started ringing. Not bothering to see the number, I shoved it back into my bag. No doubt it was Dad, or my boss, or who knew who else, all wondering where the hell I was and what I was doing. And at the moment, ignoring it all in favor of this situation seemed to be the best solution. Thinking about all that stuff would just distract me from my goal. I dropped off the keys and started out again, this time with the container right next to me in the passenger seat.

With the miles rolling by it was almost peaceful. We passed huge acres of farmland and through small towns. Large churches, graveyards, country stores and sometimes small cities were all interesting, as I stared out my windows. Some of these places looked similar to home, but they weren't the same at all. Staring up at brick monstrosities in awe and sighing when I had to go through beautiful woodlands, I wished I could stop and spend some time.

Occasionally, when I was at a stoplight or such, I'd reach out to touch the glass once more. Usually Cheerful (renamed Mischief) would send a tickle feeling that seemed to be a greeting. Sullen didn't seem to care that much except for sometimes giving off a questioning emotion to brush against my insides, as if he weren't quite sure what to make of me. That's okay bud, I don't know what to make of you two either. When I wasn't watching the miles go by, I wondered about a lot of things. Mainly planning out everything that I could think of to get to the Autobots. But by noon, we'd gotten to the end of Nebraska. The ground had gotten noticeably less flat in the last three hours but it wasn't anywhere near being hilly yet. As long as I didn't have to drive through mountains I would be okay.

I stopped for lunch at a pancake joint and got gas. Once again warm food won out against leftovers, and said supplies seemed to be getting low. The cooler was only so big and I had packed enough food for a for a few days at most. But pancakes were always good. And as it was day, I didn't have to worry about feral animals. Sitting in the passenger seat and trying to keep syrup off my fingers, I balanced the paper plate and talked to the orbs. I wouldn't touch the glass with messy fingers. I felt a bit bad too, that they were stuck in there and not talking to them was like ignoring them, right? And besides, if they couldn't talk back then the conversations didn't grate on my nerves. In one sided talks you could stop talking whenever you wanted and no one would hold you responsible to continue your conversation.

"I'm not sure what you are, but if you guys can't eat pancakes then you're missing out." I mused out loud and thought about it. There were things better than pancakes. Like homemade pizza pockets.

"And oranges. Oranges have this really sweet flavor. Chocolate is good too, but anyone could tell you that. I wonder...what do you eat? It better not be humans. Seriously." Scowling, I looked down at them. The glowing lights still spun in circles as if they didn't have a care in the world. Yeah, yeah, you look cute. Continue floating around like you're innocent little bunnies or something. That act won't work on me.

"You better not eat humans." Another grumble.

Moving on, the temperature got higher and I kept the windows down. Let me tell you something. Driving with wind in your face means you're hair comes back to whack you if it's longer than a few inches. That is why mine is usually up. And the wind felt like flying. Not nearly as good as standing up on a high place, but still nice. When darkness fell the stars came out, and I turned on my headlights. While looking for a place to settle, distant music filtered through the air.

Interesting. What was that? I slowed a bit and the air rushing through the open window quieted. The music became more distinct and a sweet smell, like sugar, hung in the air. Rounding a curve in the road and coming down a hill, I spotted the neon lights of a carnival.

"Well, would you look at that." murmuring to myself, I drove past and turned to park up on a hill overlooking the ground. Being far enough away that I wouldn't be spotted settled my slight paranoia and I could still watch the activity below. I sat on the dry grass with the cylinder on my lap. It was warm enough to take off my blue jacket but I didn't want to invite mosquitoes. With my chin resting on top, I relaxed. The music made me feel wistful. Not that I would ever admit it to anyone, had they been there.

_Curiosity. Question?_

It seemed both of them were curious this time, "You know, I've never been to a carnival at night," I spoke while listening to the distant shrieks of joy and laughter.

"Smaller fairs, yes. But never one this large or at night. It's pretty." The neon lights flashed and gave the darkened world a festive quality and for a moment I wished I could go down there. What would it be like, to walk under those orange, yellow, red, and violet lights and see the world through rose tinted glasses, if only for a few hours? To smell the cotton candy and popcorn and experience all the joy that seemed to thrive in that place? Humming along to the music I let myself wish, for just a few moments. I didn't let myself do this often. Wishing all the time never leads to happiness and never gets one anywhere. I couldn't go down there. I wanted to, but couldn't. This came first.

Looking up, my eyes studied the distant stars, picking out patterns and searching for the Big Dipper. I only knew three constellations off the top of my head and could usually find them on clear nights. The Big Dipper, sometimes the Little Dipper, and Orion. It always took me a minute to find him because Orion's Belt was easy to spot but for some reason Orion himself always looked upside down to me. Tonight I found all three.

Rubbing my hand up and down the glass, I listened to the night noise and carnival sounds. The world and sky seemed to bleed into each other, starlight gracing it all. I studied the pitch skies and wondered what was out there in the distant galaxies.

"That's were you're from, isn't it?" I whispered and got no answer.

* * *

><p>"Hey Optimus." The young man spoke quietly, watching his friend. The Prime had been working almost as much as Prowl lately but now he sat outside on the mountain, watching the sun sink down. The last rays glinted on the red and blue of his frame, highlighting the metal. His helm turned down to the human.<p>

"Hello Spike. How are you?" A quiet deep rumble of a baritone.

Rubbing his brown hair, Spike Witwicky frowned, "I think you should be asking that of everyone else first. Or I should be asking you. How are you doing Optimus Prime?" Cybertronians didn't show the same signs as humans when they were upset. They didn't have bloodshot eyes or circles underneath, frazzled hair or anything else humans tended to have. But the young man had been around the Autobots long enough to know what to look for.

With Prime's optics duller than usual and the tired body language, it was easy to tell he wasn't having the lightest of thoughts. His legs were drawn up slightly, arms loosely wrapped around them and shoulders drawn in. Someone could have said that wasn't the right image a Prime should give off. But in light of recent events, no one with even half a spark would mention it to him. Leaning against the rock wall, he didn't give off the usual presence that normally was very hard to ignore. When he spoke you listened. When he watched you or asked a question you did you're best to earn his respect. Now he almost seemed smaller.

A deep sigh, air from his intakes blowing out to join the deep evening scents of pine and rock, "I am alright. Only tired. Tell me, have you spoken to the others besides Bumblebee?" Dim sky optics glanced to his friend. Spike situated himself on a boulder next to the titan.

"Bee told me yesterday and I got here as soon as I could." He paused as they watched a group of bats fly overhead on their nightly hunt for bugs and moths.

"Blue's barely saying a word, so we're worried about him. I went to see Prowl but he's hiding himself in datapads and reports. Wheeljack can't get Ratchet out of the medbay, so he's concerned about him too. We couldn't even get in there. Doc won't let anyone through the doors unless they're hurt. Jazz is blasting music at top volume in his room." Optimus had already known how his crew was, but he'd still had the hope that perhaps a familiar face would make it better and lighten someone's mood. It had been a foolish hope. The day's light slipped away even more but still graced the land and sky in red's and oranges.

"It is a good thing his walls are soundproof." The Prime put in blandly.

Spike quirked the corner of his mouth up, but there was not enough there to be a smile, "Yeah. Bee and I went to see if the Dinobots would come out. We figured, if we can cheer _someone_ up...maybe everyone would feel a bit better." Sadness tinged his words.

The Autobot leader turned away, back to the surrounding forest and mountainous rock, "Grief is not something that easily lets go. And many times, we do not want to let go of it either." Silence met this statement over the evening birds giving their last songs and the crickets waking up. Their chirps filled the air in the background, barely discernible.

"What did you tell the Dinobots, to persuade them to leave their room?" He finally continued.

"I asked them to play Jungle Natives with us. We even had some new patterned cloth for bribery. After that, we kinda gave up. There's just... I dunno what to do to help. And I miss the Twins too. Even for all the trouble they caused. Like that time I accidentally set off that trap meant for Gears. Couldn't get that silly string out of my hair for days." A brief chuckle broke through before fading, mahogany eyes tightening a little. The sky darkened a little more while the clouds became edged with fiery light.

The giant beside him sat quietly before lamenting, "This war has gone on for far too long. I fear that it will only be over when there is none of us left." He finished in a whisper. The human frowned, hearing the Prime's fear. But he couldn't give any consoling thoughts because he was afraid of that as well. He too, worried that the war would only end when there was no longer any Cybertronians, and no longer anyone left to fight.

"Primus willing that doesn't happen." Spike murmured to his friend as they watched the last light of day fade into dusk.


End file.
